Lycanthropy
by KitKat-Pyrophobia
Summary: What is fortune? Is it health, easily tainted with the bite of a halfbreed? Or can it be the normalcy of everyday life, so suddenly chipping away? For Scorpius Malfoy, misfortune is in charge, and is handing him a certain Rose to only make things harder.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I own absolutely nothing… except for the books, of which my beautiful beta, _hyperactive crazy gurl95_, is currently in possession… damn…

**A/N:** For **Eleni C**, who inspired me to get off my lazy ass and write, and **XxrandomxX**, who is pretty much the coolest, and most punctual reviewer ever.

:D

Oh hey, **Vincent Valentine**, we're getting married. Kay?

Now, don't get me wrong, I love fluffy oneshots with clichéd plotlines and similar characterization (and I'm 100% honestly _not_ being sarcastic… just look at my other stories), but I wanted to try my luck at something different and original… and I know _I've_ never read a story where Scorpius is a werewolf…

On with the story, then!

* * *

"_These violent delights have violent ends  
And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, _

_Which as they kiss consume."_

—Romeo and Juliet, Act 2 Scene 6

* * *

There was a luxurious tent, enchanted to have four rooms, an everlasting fire, and only one House-Elf along to do all the cooking and tidying up.

To the Malfoys, this was positively roughing it.

It had been Astoria's suggestion that they go camping, Muggle-style, for a few days to "bond as a family" before she left to go with her mother and sister on vacation. Scorpius was indifferent as always on the surface. In fact, he thought it would be rather enjoyable if anything, not that he would ever admit it out loud. Draco, whipped as he was in his years, couldn't say "no" to his wife, despite his discomfort in forests after his first detention at Hogwarts…

That's what brought Scorpius and his parents to the middle of a dense forest in Merlin-Knows-Where, England. He knew that it was somewhere around the place where they held the Quidditch World Cup in 1994, but he had literally _no idea_ where in the world they were, since he didn't actually _go_ to the World Cup.

He realized as soon as they got there that it wasn't going to be as fun as he thought.

Draco was already complaining about the lack of amenities camping brought. He said he needed a hot shower after a "long trip"… which consisted of three seconds of effortless Apparation. Astoria was building the overlarge tent joyfully enough to counterbalance her husband. Scorpius was just watching his parents' exchanges, leaning against a rather uncomfortable tree, with a disinterestedly raised eyebrow.

Scorpius was spoiled, to say the least, but not quite yet rotten. After nearly sixteen years of getting everything material you could possibly want, it gets boring, and it was easy for him to become extremely jaded. There was no more challenge in life for him, other than schoolwork. That's why he loved school. There was always something new to test him at Hogwarts. He was tremendously talented with spellwork, and picked up on concepts quickly. He always fought for a way to improve on things. If he could do a spell by saying it aloud, why couldn't he say it without speaking?

There were three separate reasons he got everything he wanted:

One: his title. Heir of the Malfoy fortune. He felt extremely resentful towards his surname. If someone didn't treat him like royalty because of it, they treated him like dirt on their shoe. With a family history of enthusiastic Death Eaters behind him, Scorpius understood why they thought this. He learned just how malicious people could be when he began Hogwarts, and was bullied unendingly until halfway through third year, when he learned to finally fight back. This fact is what caused his distance towards people. He wasn't particularly cruel, and didn't wear a permanent scowl or smirk when around others, but he couldn't will himself to become too close to anyone in particular. But, why did he _need _anyone? He asked himself frequently. He had the money to buy anything he wanted. He had the means to go anywhere, to do anything. But, after sixteen years of this repeated pattern, Scorpius found that he didn't particularly want _anything_ anymore.

Two: his looks. It wasn't any sort of secret that he was exceptionally attractive. Patrician was a perfect word to describe his appearance. A high forehead, dusted with wisps of the platinum hair that would fall down from being pushed back, a straight, pointed nose, a sharp chin, silver eyes laced with dark, impossibly long lashes, naturally straight teeth, clear pale skin, silky, straight blond hair, lean limbs, toned muscles… the whole package deal. The fact that he dressed in expensive, dapper clothing, making it look perfectly casual, didn't help his case. With a simple raised eyebrow, he could make girls swoon and boys sick with jealousy. He was well aware of this, because he wasn't _stupid_, but it never really mattered to him. He didn't take interest in any of the girls who said he was "so fit", because if they didn't care to know more about him other than the accurate shade of his hair in the light, he didn't care to speak to them at all. It was the same situation with older people, as well. There was something corruptly biased about the world that made him apathetic.

Three: his talent. This was the only thing that he accepted as a good reason to favor him. He was more than his surname and his distinguished features: he was a wizard with talent and drive in everything he tried. He could do the most complex spells with a lazy flick of his wand; he combined ingredients expertly in his cauldron to craft the most effective potions; he could fly faster and more agilely than any Quidditch player in his league. When people praised him for these reasons, he didn't internally cringe, he felt surges of pride. He knew he worked hard for everything he'd accomplished, spending hours in the library rather than outdoors, lazing about when he had a test, or practicing a spell verbally and nonverbally until he was red in the face in order to perfect it.

For whatever of the three reasons, the world was handed to him inconsequentially on a silver platter. So, naturally, it was quite a culture shock to him when they took their leave from the lavish Malfoy Manor to stay in the tiny four-room tent.

"There," Astoria chirped, having finished setting up the nylon monstrosity, all by hand, while Draco sat scowling on a log in front of it, and Scorpius declared himself irreversibly bored. Both had offered the woman help. She refused it adamantly from both of them.

The two men eyed her uncertainly, waiting for further instruction.

"Well, go in, then!" She was still irregularly excited.

Exhaling, greatly resembling a moody teenager, Scorpius ducked into the tent opening.

Expecting the very worst, he stood straighter, and immediately, a grimace appeared on his face.

The place was a _shack_ compared to what he was used to. The immediate view was the kitchen and the sitting room, which together equalled maybe _half_ the size of his room at home. They were airy and light, and had limited furniture. It was an outrage, to think that he would be spending the next few days in this hovel.

His room wasn't any better. Though big enough to accommodate six people comfortably, it was _miniscule_ to Scorpius. The walls were bare of anything he had back home, like his Ravenclaw House banners, and Quidditch posters. The four-poster, King Sized bed was freshly made, most likely by Mitzi, the House-Elf, and there was a full wardrobe right beside it.

He looked at it in disdain for a few moments, the melodramatic nature that came with being an adolescent overtaking his thoughts.

"Mr. Malfoy?" A breathy voice squeaked beside him.

Turning his scowl from the room to the tiny elf beside him, he raised an eyebrow in silent question.

"Is everything to your standard?" Mitzi's huge brown eyes held such expectant sincerity that even apathetic Scorpius found it to be endearing.

"Yes, thank you, Mitzi," He didn't have the heart to be cold to the elf. He knew that the creatures were supposed to be beneath witches and wizards, but he didn't think it fair to be cruel to something that worked so hard to make humans happy.

The elf looked elated. She nodded, bowed so low that her stubby nose touched the plush floor of the tent, and bobbed out of the room.

With a sigh, Scorpius carefully climbed into the bed, lying with his arms behind his head. Closing his eyes, he let his own thoughts drift into dreams.

* * *

"Mr. Malfoy, sir?"

His eyes opened slowly. Groaning against the headache that _always_ came to him with waking up, he sat upright. For a moment, he wondered why his bed felt so mediocre, and then he realized that he wasn't at home. "Yes?" He sighed, directing his attention to the pitiful creature in his doorway.

"Mister Malfoy, I mean to say, your father, requests your attendance, sir,"

"Tell him I'll be right there," He said with an easy wave of his hand. He needed to get up anyway—the brightness of the room was only worsening his headache.

The elf nodded, her large ears flapping slightly, looking extremely nervous as always, and made to scramble out of the room.

"Thank you," He added, rubbing one of his eyes.

The elf looked touched, beaming as she looked back at him for a small moment before continuing.

Scorpius rolled his eyes, but allowed himself a small smile. There was something fulfilling in the look of jubilance on the ugly creature's face that reminded Scorpius of Hogwarts.

He never really made his way into the Great Hall at school except for breakfast, and still he was earlier than anyone else. Instead, he ventured to the kitchens for an "exclusive" meal from the House-Elves working there. He never asked them to prepare him anything special – he ate what they already had arranged for the students. He found the company of the creatures enjoyable, since they didn't speak much, but were happy in what they were doing. The general quiet and joyful atmosphere of his meals was peaceful. Plus, it made him uncomfortable to be around so many people at once, due to the fact that he'd been bullied by around half of the older students at one point or another.

His lips curling up slightly at the thought of Hogwarts only a few weeks away, Scorpius dignifiedly heaved himself off the bed, trudging, with a natural sort of swagger, to his father, who was sitting in one of the springy beige armchairs in the sitting room. Draco looked uneasy from where he was, with a sickly sort of appearance. He gripped the arms of the chair.

"Yes?" Scorpius asked, standing in front of his father.

"Son, will you get us some water?" He asked, his tone normal, if a little bit exaggeratedly composed.

"Why can't you just conjure some?" The youngest of the identical pair asked, somewhat defiantly.

Draco suddenly looked very tired and edgy. His left eyebrow twitched slightly as he replied, "Your mother has taken my wand."

Scorpius's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He knew for a fact that Draco hadn't been without his wand since 1998. "Why?"

"'We're camping,' she says, 'Muggle-style, Draco, no magic!' she says…" Draco looked like a madman, muttering almost to himself.

Scorpius snorted at how his mother wore the trousers in their relationship. "I have mine, do you want to use _Augamenti _and get it over with?" He pulled the thin blackthorn stick out of his back pocket, and holding it out for his father's use.

"Scorpius, that's a very dishonest thing to do," Draco scolded, glowering, but still took the wand from his son's hand.

The youngest Malfoy rolled his eyes, but half-smiled.

Draco pointed it importantly at a small canteen, magically enlarged on the inside, of course, and tapped it swiftly. "_Augame_—"

"DRACO MALFOY!"

Both blond heads snapped towards the entryway of the tent. Draco's pale face drained of color. Scorpius's eyes widened.

"_What are you doing_?" The usually-svelte woman looked rather ragged, with dirt smudged on her face, and twigs sticking out of her elegantly curly hair. She crackled with energy, her dark blue eyes shining at their defiance.

Cool, smirking Draco Malfoy was reduced to unbecoming sputters of a lame, untrue explanation.

Astoria marched over to her husband, with one hand on her rounded hip, the other held out towards him. The raised eyebrow over her freezing cold eyes _dared_ him to challenge her.

Though looking thoroughly miserable, Draco handed over his son's wand.

The chuckles that he'd been ready to release died in Scorpius's throat. "Mom, I need my wand!" He confronted, standing up taller, attempting to be intimidating in the eyes of the woman who used to _Scourgify_ his diapers.

"We're Muggle-camping. Of course you don't need your wand," She waved her hand impatiently. Her temper had apparently gone down since confiscating the wand from her rude husband's possession.

"But—"

"Water, Scorpius?" Draco supplied wearily, looking out for his son against his wife's irritability.

Suddenly fuming, Scorpius shot a lethal look at his cowardly father. Snatching up the canteen from his hands, Scorpius stalked out of the tent, leaving two exasperated parents in his wake. Both of them shook their heads, and were both sighing the same thing in their heads: _teenagers_.

"Mitzi, where is there some water?" He swiftly asked the small elf, who was tending to the fire, trying to make it burn more strongly.

"There should be a small creek running just north of here, sir," She helped, moving her long-fingered hand out of the flames just in time to stop herself from receiving a nasty burn.

"Thank you," He said shortly, and began to stride away from the tent.

* * *

The setting sun only brought a sick sense of excitement over the beastly man as he sauntered through the woods. Only a few minutes earlier, he caught a whiff of the mouth-watering scent of humans nearby, and, after so many months of hunger and isolation, he couldn't remain abstinent from their taste.

The War caused much hardship on the man—if he could still be called that—, since he couldn't go into community places to hunt anymore. The last he'd heard of world outside the Merlin-forsaken forest, he was on the top list of Most Wanted criminals in the Ministry of Magic. Apparently Potter and his little team of Aurors were searching every nook and cranny for him…

The thought brought a demented smile onto his face every time he thought of it. He didn't plan to go to Azkaban… he _never_ planned to go to Azkaban.

He had been living, for so long now that counting years escaped him, in remote forests, usually among his own kind, feasting on animals mostly, and, if the circumstances deemed it necessary, well, he was hardly opposed to cannibalism. After all, human or half-human, the taste of flesh against his lips brought a phenomenal sense of happiness upon him.

The scent was growing steadily stronger, causing his eyes to nearly roll back in his head. He pushed matted hair out of his face, in order to get a clearer direction of the aroma. Somewhere close by, amazingly close by, there was a human. Full human; young from the smell of it. He could almost sense the rushing blood through their veins… he was sure this person would taste absolutely delectable.

The animalistic man took a sharp inhale, quivering slightly at the smell. He began walking more determinedly through the wood, paying no mind to the noise he was causing as twigs snapped and leaves rustled underneath his broad feet. His beastly desire was becoming more and more pronounced with every second he wasted not devouring this person. He found himself speeding up with every step he took.

A voice caused him to stop in his tracks.

"_Augamenti_!"

His sin-kissed lips parted to reveal a smile consisting of stained, uneven brown teeth. A _wizard_. A young wizard. Most likely still in school. Probably on summer holiday from Hogwarts. A snarl sounded in his throat at the thought of the last time he visited that damned school…

No. Nothing was going to distract him from his meal. But maybe, since this boy was still a school student, only _biting_ would suffice… he could kill and consume his family, and keep the boy for his own, teaching him how to be a proper werewolf. He could use the boy to hunt in the open, since this boy wasn't on the run from the Ministry… His lycanthropic army could rise!

And, if all else failed, he would always have a meal close by.

Another shuddering exhale sounded from the ecstasy in the man's body. The boy was so near, so very near…

He licked his lips in excitement. A few more paces and all he would have to do is spring on the boy… or maybe he could play innocent, and win his trust…

The possibilities, mingled with the thought of a full meal after so many years, nearly brought Fenrir Greyback to his knees in rapture.

* * *

It had been way too long that Scorpius had been walking, in search for some seemingly imaginary creek. Half the time, he was cursing his horrible sense of direction; the other half, he was wondering if he could be capable of a wand-less incantation. Surely, if there was no wand used, he couldn't get in trouble with the Improper Use of Magic Office at the Ministry? After a few minutes of concentrating so hard that he trembled, attempting, ranging from whispering to shouting "_Aguamenti_!" repeatedly, hoping that water would spring, literally, out of nowhere, he gave up with a heavy sigh.

He didn't even know where north _was_!

He was becoming hot, despite the cool evening air. He could feel small drops of sweat beginning to form in his hairline. The final bit of light was dawdling on the horizon. The sky was a predominantly periwinkle type color, with streaks of leftover oranges, purples, and pinks from the sunset. The shadows on the trees were lengthening, and Scorpius knew that soon there would _only_ be shadows.

He didn't know how to get to water; he didn't know how to get back to his parents; he didn't have his wand. He was in an amazing position. Except that this was the worst possible situation he could possibly encounter.

Scorpius stopped for a moment, to survey his whereabouts. To his left: trees. To his right: trees. In front of him: a slightly worn patch of dirt… lined with trees. Behind him: trees.

He ran a hand through his slightly damp hair as he exhaled. It was ridiculous, that he was even _here_. If his damn father had just told his mother "no" for just _once_, and if he could have just finished the damn spell, he wouldn't be lost. Still, his anger had slightly simmered down, replaced with a light shade of panic. He was, indisputably, lost.

A sudden rustling in the trees to the right of him caused his head to snap around so hard that he heard his neck crack in a few places.

Clenching his jaw together tightly, his heart hammering, he watched a… person (?) come out from the woods.

"Hello," A raspy, bark-like voice greeted just a little too smoothly.

His appearance caused any color in the young Malfoy's face to draw off. He was, in the simplest terms, terrifying. He looked like he'd just escaped from Azkaban or worse. Graying hair that grew from both his head and his face was matted together, dirt and sweat and something dark, looking suspiciously like blood, all mixing to cause a filthy appearance of a madman. His eyes were barely visible underneath all the grime, but Scorpius could still see that they held inhuman hunger. His clothes hung off him, tattered and ragged, mirroring his overall appearance.

Scorpius felt that he'd seen this man before… he couldn't place where, but he knew that it wasn't someplace pleasant.

"Hello," He replied through a still-tensed jaw. His hand reached instinctively for his back pocket, only to realize that he didn't have a wand with him. His heart fell, and his fists balled up into fists.

"You wouldn't know how to get to town from here, would you?" Greyback asked, running his tongue along his unnaturally sharp teeth behind his lips.

"No, sorry," Scorpius tried to stay pleasant. There was a chill running down his spine that he knew had nothing to do with the cool breeze playing at his hair.

"Too bad," He teased, beginning to slowly circle Scorpius, isolating him in a very uncomfortable way, "You see, I've been living off the land for quite a while, and would like to get back to some civilization to… have a meal," he licked his cracked, sore-covered lips.

Scorpius copied him, but for much different reasons. His throat felt suddenly like there was sandpaper grating at the edges. He nodded at the man's last remark, and tried to find an opening to run.

A sharp, shuddering inhale of breath from the animalistic man caused another chill down Scorpius's spine. Hairs stood up on the back of his neck. He couldn't move his body, even though his mind was screaming for him to flee.

"What brings you to these parts of the forest?" The man asked, pseudo-conversationally.

"I'm camping with my family," Scorpius couldn't find the energy to lie to the man, though he immediately regretted telling him the truth.

Fenrir swallowed, his Adam's-apple bobbing slowly. "Big family?" He asked quietly, huskily.

"Not particularly, no," Scorpius's mouth felt bone-dry.

"Family," the other man repeated, more to himself than to Scorpius.

He stood stock-still, not even finding the energy to run a hand through his hair, which was becoming increasingly damp with perspiration.

"What is a family of wizards doing in a forest?" Greyback asked, just as chillingly brightly as before.

Ice filled Scorpius's lungs. "Wizards?" The panicked note in his voice gave him away.

"You seem familiar, actually, now that I'm looking…"

Scorpius cursed the fact that three consecutive generations of Malfoy men were identical down to the last hair.

"Let me see…" His tone changed from smooth and friendly to darker, crueler sounding. Greyback's instincts were nearly overwhelming by now. "Light hair… gray eyes… pale skin…" An oily grin spread across his face. "You must be a Malfoy,"

His heart froze. The image of a "Wanted by the Ministry of Magic" poster filled his mind at the sight of that greasy smile… He suddenly remembered who the man was: Fenrir Greyback, the notoriously bloodthirsty werewolf on the Ministry's Most Wanted list… Scorpius dejectedly began to accept that he was going to die. It was strangely isolating, the thought of dying… He'd just been so unfriendly to his parents…

"See here, boy, your father was quite a loyal Death Eater with the rest of us at the time," Fenrir was, in his way, playing with his food.

Scorpius felt extremely squirmy, but also numb. A certain denial was clouding all his senses.

"Who knew someone quite like him could go off raising a right family, huh?" Another wicked grin overtook his face. "I bet he's raised you just the same…"

"He hasn't." The firmness of his own voice surprised him. There was nothing "loyal Death Eater" about him or his family whatsoever. The very thought was extremely degrading.

"Too bad… you'd be a good evil, you know." He still paced around Scorpius, a malicious, starving sort of look on his face.

"Yes, too bad." He didn't look at the man, but rather straight forward into a crevice in the tree. He hoped that his parents would notice how long he'd been gone… hoped that his father would miraculously materialize in the gap between the trees…

"Where _is_ your family, boy? We could have a nice little… reunion,"

Scorpius stayed silent. His chest felt cold and empty. There was no light left on the horizon. The undeniably full moon wasn't fully raised yet, however. The thought only assuaged his dread a tiny amount.

"If you're thinking of being noble and saving them, I can assure you it won't work," He snarled. "I can smell flesh from a mile away,"

"You'll have to find them on your own, then." His voice was low, betraying a sense of confidence he didn't know he had.

Fenrir seemed to not hear his last comment; he took a deep breath, as if in rapture. He raised his arms towards the sky.

"Do you see it?" He asked quietly, his entire figure illuminated in the light. Scorpius stared at him defiantly, trying to keep himself from trembling in paralyzing fear.

"The full moon is a beautiful sight, don't you think?"

Trepidation filled the blond boy. Sixteen years seemed such a short time to live…

Fenrir closed his eyes in a manic sort of delight. He reached a yellow-finger nailed hand into the sleeve of his rags, and pulled out a short, fat wand that was noticeably chipped in places. He continued to encircle him, only drawing nearer.

"Not even going to fight back?" He whispered, his wand raised to shoulder-height.

Scorpius stood his ground, inflexible from terror.

"Pity. I was looking for a bit of a challenge… but I suppose food _is_ food…" He stopped, facing Scorpius directly. He pointed the wand straight at his nose.

Scorpius didn't flinch, didn't blink. His mind was slowly shutting down in every respect.

"If you're not going to fight, you may as well not _move_," A snarl consumed his face. "_Petrificus Totalus_," He said harshly.

His limbs sprung to his sides, as he felt every bend in his body go rigid. All of his muscles were already tensed, so the shock of falling, flat as a board, to the dirty ground was slightly absorbed. His eyes welled up with tears, as the back of his head felt like it was literally being split in two. Loose dirt filled his nostrils as he tried to recover the breath that had been knocked out of him. His eyes stung with the dust filling the corners—he could see specks of earth against his eyelashes. Lights popped up against the sky because of the sudden blow to the head.

"Mmm," Fenrir felt unnaturally euphoric as he took another deep inhale.

Scorpius could only see his silhouette against the frighteningly bright moon. If he could have closed his eyes against the terrifying sight, he wouldn't had to have seen the grotesque transformation from man to wolf.

Greyback's already-hunched back curved over more, and hair seemed to spurt out from every pore on his body. His face, twisted into a sadomasochistic smile at the intense pain he was feeling, grew longer, his legs grew slimmer, and a tangled tail grew from his back. The calloused hands at the end of his arms curled into sharp-clawed paws.

It was disgusting, and frightening, and Scorpius regretted that this would be the last thing he ever saw.

The now-wolf trotted around Scorpius again, his long, gray fur shaking with every step, sniffing unkindly at his clothes. In the moonlight, Scorpius could still see the sadistic hunger in his eyes.

He took in an uneasy breath, and knew it was one of his last.

Fenrir placed his muzzle over Scorpius's shoulder. With a final moment of vicious hesitation, he opened his mouth, revealing sharp, stained teeth that hardly looked different than the ones he had in human form.

Scorpius felt extremely vulnerable. His eyes were still fixed on the spot between the trees…

Mercilessly, Fenrir Greyback lacerated the junction of the young boy's neck and left shoulder.

At first, Scorpius felt nothing.

Then, all at once, his entire body felt like it was being slashed with serrated, white-hot knives.

He struggled to move, the blunt ache of immobilization only adding to the exponentially increasing sharpness coursing up and down his limbs.

It was so ghastly that, in that moment, Scorpius _hoped_ he could somehow die, just to stop feeling everything. His entire mind was cloudy, as every thought he had about a certain spot in pain was replaced with a new one about a different section. He felt warm, sticky liquid sliding down his neck and back, puddling around his shoulders. There was too much blood draining out too quickly. He could feel the cool air chafing against the raw, stinging edges of his brand new wound. It felt as if every pain receptor in his body was suddenly focusing on one nerve and then every nerve. His eyes rolled back in inescapable agony.

Fenrir took no pity on him. He pulled his teeth out of the ragged wound, and licked the blood off his whiskery lips. He chewed up bits of severed flesh, relishing in the taste of human. There was no sense left in him… he forgot all about his plan to keep the boy alive for his control… there was only the unadulterated hunger in devouring the helpless boy.

He pierced the skin again, more deeply than before, growling in ecstasy.

If Scorpius could have moved, he would be trembling. If he could have spoken, he would be screaming.

There was something incredibly wrong with this. There was absolutely nothing to distract him from the crippling pain… no movements with which to concentrate his mind, no plotting to somehow escape…

There was only physical torture and stifling disappointment at everything he'd never been able to accomplish…

A frantic rustling pulled the wolf from his nearly nauseating pleasure, the rough movement only causing more brutal nausea in the pit of Scorpius's stomach.

"_STUPEFY_!" A petrified-sounding Draco Malfoy shouted, pointing his wand directly between the startled wolf's eyes.

Fenrir collapsed on top of Scorpius, whose agony was infinitely alleviated by the sound of his father's voice, but still infinitely vicious all over his body.

"_Finite Incantatem!_" He shoved the wolf off, and pointed his wand over his son's heart, which, unbeknownst to him, was racing dangerously.

Everything on him suddenly felt free, almost rubbery. He began trembling and twitching in pain.

A blood-curdling scream shook the treetops, as everything he'd been helpless to let out was suddenly unleashed.

Draco's face was paper-white. An uncertain type of anguish gripped his features, making every fine line on his face seem considerably deeper.

"Astoria!" He yelled, kneeling by his son's shaking form. He gingerly reached out for his wound, only to stop as Scorpius tensed.

Shuddering breaths were barely making their way into Scorpius's lungs. He huddled up into a fetal position, pain overtaking all of his senses: he could feel the pain; he could see the backs of his squeezed-shut eyelids; he could hear his father's frantic breathing; he could smell the blood pooling around him; he could taste it on his tongue. He whimpered pathetically; tears ran down his cheeks, mixing with the blood on the ground.

"DRACO—have you found hi—" Utter revulsion struck her suddenly ghostly features, "Oh… Merlin," Her hand touched her lips.

"I'm going to Apparate to the Ministry, Astoria. Stay here with him," Draco's voice was dripping with strained calm as he stood up from his son's side.

"Hurry Draco," She whispered.

With a loud _pop!_ Draco was gone.

"Mitzi!" Astoria called. She hastily pushed her hair out of her face, and fell to her knees next to her son. The legs of her khaki pants were instantly soaked with her son's blood. This fact did not help the dread filling every vein in her body.

"Miss Malfoy?" The elf appeared by her side. She looked horrified as well.

"Pack our things; we're going to St. Mungo's," She ordered, not sparing a single glance at anything other than Scorpius's dismal figure. Astoria reached out to her son, who tensed up. Soothingly, she stroked his hair. It didn't assist anything except her own mentality.

Scorpius heard everything as if through water. The ache was terrifyingly gripping. The mental was almost worse than the physical.

He was bitten by a werewolf. He was going to be the same type of monster once a month for the rest of his life. He was going to be exiled, hated for an affliction he couldn't help. His parents were going to live with the burden of him… he was probably never going to go to school again…

"Where is he?" An unfamiliar, but definitely male, voice asked from somewhere behind him.

"Just over there; I've stunned him," His father's exhausted tone was comforting to him.

"Did you see his human form?"

"Potter, if I would have seen him as a human, don't you think I would've done something to prevent this?" Draco snapped irately, jerking his hand to his slowly bleeding-out son.

Harry was calm, something that was acquired after years of practice. People panicked in terrible situations; it was only natural.

"Could we ask him who it was?" He asked carefully, staring at the anguish in his old school-rival's face. Years of practice did _not_ make him desensitized to other people's emotions… he felt sympathy for the family that had suffered an amazing tragedy. Images of Remus Lupin and Bill Weasley filled his mind.

Draco agreed, and crouched down near his son's ear. "Son, did you see who it was?" He asked gently.

Scorpius's jaw clenched so tightly that he thought his teeth were going to shatter. "G—" he coughed up a little bit of blood. His voice was extremely croaky. "Greyback,"

Harry's face flushed in hatred, as he immediately busied himself with looking after the stunned wolf. "Draco," He said, silently stunning the creature again, just in case. "Take him to St. Mungo's. You can Apparate directly to the Creature-Induced Injuries Ward on the first floor,"

Draco nodded, and squeezed his wife's shaking hand. "Son, we're Apparating," He said quietly. As gently as he could, he picked up his pride and joy, completely ignoring the fact that he was much too heavy now to carry comfortably.

Scorpius felt unpleasant tremors run through his body. His wound was disturbed. A strangled groan sounded in his throat.

"Thank you, Potter," The older Malfoy added stiffly, before concentrating on the First Floor of the hospital.

Scorpius was sure he was dying when all the breath left his lungs. He said a silent goodbye to his parents and everyone at school. He squeezed his flooding eyes tightly. His neck was throbbing.

"Werewolf bite?" An elderly Healer frantically ran towards the trio.

Draco nodded silently, looking incredibly grave.

The Healer conjured a hospital bed with a flick of his lithe wand, and Draco laid Scorpius down gently.

Another disturbance to the sensitive gash sent shudders down his body.

"Here, son, drink this," The fatherly Healer tilted Scorpius's head up.

Numbly, Scorpius obeyed. Much of the thick, sickly sweet liquid drained down the side of his mouth due to gravity of lying on his side. Though a little mingled with blood in his throat, it slipped down to his stomach.

It had no immediate effect. Scorpius still lay in a vulnerable position, trembling. Draco still had his shaking arm around a numbly appalled Astoria, as they watched, but could not do anything to help, their slowly dying son.

His breath began to come more steadily, though the pain did not lessen. His entire head felt like it gained twenty pounds, and he slumped against the firm bed, his body no longer tense. It was involuntary, but not unwanted.

He was sure he was dead for what seemed like the millionth time, finally, until he began having dreams.

Nightmares, rather, about isolation, pain, and horrible, stifling guilt.

* * *

**A/N: **It's so hard to proofread and get back into the mood of making him such a spoiled brat when I've just written that he nearly dies…

So, I actually did some research, and it turns out that there's no proof that Fenrir Greyback died in the War, or that he was imprisoned afterwards. The beautiful JKR hasn't told us, and it never says so in the 7th book. So _I _think it's cannon. :D

Rose is going to show up in Chapter Three, so keep a lookout. I, for once in my life, have the entire fic planned out. There are going to be around 15 chapters in total, give or take.

**Story Alert?**

PLEASE_PLEASE__**PLEASE**_ review! I enjoy everything from a long, drawn out life-story of a review detailing every little moment to a three word death-threat.

I'm not going to pull the whole hostage thing with this, and say "oh, I need (X amount) reviews before I update", but I do ask for a few at least, to know how I'm doing, or if people are even interested. _I plan to update in two-week intervals_, so, every other Friday night. :D

Right, so…

Keep things classy. Subscribe to the story :D

_KitKat Pyrophobia_


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I do not own. If I did, there would be a separate book dedicated to Draco Malfoy and family. :D

**A/N:** Teeny tiny hint at Remus/Sirius in this chapter… blink and you'll miss it. :D

* * *

"_Close pent-up guilts,_

_Rive your concealing continents, and cry_

_These dreadful summoners grace. I am a man_

_More sinn'd against than sinning."_

—King Lear, Act 3 Scene 2

* * *

His eyes opened slowly. Groaning against the headache that _always_ came to him with waking up, he sat upright; with a strangled gasp, he fell back.

He felt as if someone had shattered freezing glass against his skin, and ground it in ruthlessly. His right hand, only barely responsive, ached as he reached up to his opposite shoulder, feeling the surface gingerly.

His brow furrowed in confusion. Other than the fact that it made his still-closed eyes water with pain, he noticed that his skin felt extremely strange; it was rough, but held a definite pattern. The exterior felt sticky, and very tender to the touch.

Scorpius opened his eyes for the first time, and taking a minute to adjust to the dim light of… wherever he was, he looked at his shoulder.

With a quick rush that only worsened his headache, every memory of the day before came back to him. The strange texture on his skin was actually comprised of layers and layers of stained, red-and-white bandages wrapped firmly around his neck, shoulder, and parts of his torso. There was also one around his head, and he now realized that the throbbing he felt wasn't from his headache alone.

He buried his face in his hands, squeezing his eyelids together to stop tears from escaping. His jaw was clenched together so tightly that it ached.

"Scorpius, are you awake?" He heard his father's slightly breathless voice ask from somewhere to the right of him.

"Yeah," He replied dryly, lying back against what he now remembered was a hospital bed at St. Mungo's. He pulled the thin sheets up further on his bare torso, for the want of a type of safe comfort he couldn't quite place.

Draco hastily made his way to his son's side. "How are you feeling?"

Scorpius only looked at him with a dry, almost condescending, expression.

"Scorpius…" Draco's eyes were shining with guilt. "I'm so sorry."

Scorpius felt his heart gain twenty pounds and drop down his stomach. "Dad, no, it—"

The older Malfoy held a hand up to stop him. "No. Don't try to blame yourself for this, son. If I'd only gotten there a little more quickly then he—well, this might not have ever happened." His tone was deep with emotion.

Scorpius exhaled. It was enough that his parents were going to live with the burden of a son who was a… werewolf… he didn't want his father to blame _himself_ for it.

"Dad," He began firmly, "It's not your fault. Don't even think that."

Draco opened his mouth to argue, but Scorpius copied his earlier action and held up a silencing hand. "It's neither of our faults that… Fenrir Greyback was starving in the woods, and we _happened_ to be camping there, and I _happen_ to have a terrible sense of direction," He shot his father a feeble smile. "It's no one's fault but...but his." Scorpius began to realize only saying the name only increased his bodily pain.

A tear fell down Draco's cheek, and he hurriedly wiped it away. "I—"

"Scorpius?" Astoria appeared at the doorway.

Scorpius looked at her and waved half-heartedly.

She hurried to his side, just as her husband had. She held out her arms, readying herself for a probably bone-crushing hug, but stopped and blanched when she saw all of his bandages. Her arms lowered awkwardly, and she opted for a sympathetic pat on the knee.

"Are you feeling okay?"

He felt like giving her the same kind of sardonic look he gave his father, but opted for a more considerate approach to dealing with an emotional mother. "I'm fine, I suppose, considering…" An attempted shrug left him hissing in pain.

Tears immediately arose and fell from the woman's dark eyes. "Scorpius, I'm so sorry,"

"Mom, don't try to blame yourself like Dad," Though his eyes were still closed, the nerves in his shoulder seething, he managed to scold his mother.

"If I hadn't taken your wand away, he—"

"He would have immediately Disarmed me and bitten me anyway," He raised an eyebrow, still managing to be cheeky from what might have been his deathbed.

Astoria let out a wet sob, and Draco warmly wrapped an arm around her, another tear rolling down his lined cheek as he looked at his son, horror, sympathy, and guilt mixing in his eyes.

Tension was thick in the room. Scorpius was in near disbelief that only a few hours had changed his entire life, and that his parents were blaming _themselves_ for it.

"Scorpius H. Malfoy?" A Healer asked tentatively from the doorway.

His parents' heads snapped up toward the sound; Scorpius continued to look forward, vexed. The appearance of the room was quickly adding to his irritation… small, perfectly square; still dim when everything was pure white; "tastefully" speckled tile; slight curtains covering a nonexistent window; and the damn tiny bed with the paper-thin mattress and the _guard rails_…

"Yes," He replied, trying to cover up the sting that coursed down his spine when he attempted to cross his arms.

The serious-looking man, somewhere in his early forties, tapped his clipboard with a dark wand, and walked into the room, stopping at the foot of Scorpius's bed. He pushed a bit of graying hair out of his face before he glanced back at the board.

Scorpius rolled his eyes tiredly. His father gave his mother's hand a squeeze from beside him.

"I take it you know exactly what happened to you?" He asked, his voice laced with well-rehearsed sympathy.

He looked at the man with a mockingly raised eyebrow. The young Malfoy bit back a venomous reaction.

The aging man obviously didn't speak Sarcasm. "You were attacked by the werewolf named Fenrir Greyback."

"Yes," Scorpius said stiffly, his back teeth grinding against each other, "I was there. I remember that."

The Healer checked something off on his board with a newly-conjured quill. The look of the clipboard, perched up on is side like that, was adding to his dangerous annoyance level.

Scorpius stared disinterestedly at the open curtain around his bed.

"I suppose you would like to know the extent of your injuries?"

Closing his eyes for a second, he turned towards him with an indignant expression. "I'm going to be a werewolf for the rest of my life." He said dryly, almost matter-of-factly.

A look of rehearsed sadness crossed his face as his mother let out another sob. "Yes, I'm afraid you are,"

He scoffed, anger, hurt and resentment all bubbling up inside him, the first of the emotions falling out of his mouth. "It's quite funny, actually," He began, his voice steely.

The Healer looked confused, but interested, cocking his head to one side.

"I've only been a werewolf for a few hours, and _already_ someone is afraid," He clenched his jaw tightly against the sudden sting behind his eyes.

The man's mouth tightened into a flat line. He had obviously been prepared for hurt, sadness, and sickening grief, but a teenaged boy, with his whole life suddenly changed and essentially ruined, being sarcastic and cold wasn't on his usual list of stereotype patients.

Briskly, he tried to redeem himself. "I only meant—"

"I know what you meant." The younger Malfoy cut him off, avoiding his eyes. "I might as well get used to it, though, shouldn't I?" Something heavy weighed on his chest.

"Scorpius…" Astoria reached out for his hand.

He let her take it, but made no indication that he felt it. "So, my injuries?" He shot at the Healer.

He looked thoroughly flustered by now. He adjusted his silver wire-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose. "Right. You have a concussion, probably from the fall you took," Another look of plastic-sympathy crossed his face, "And it will take up to a week for your wounds to completely heal." He glanced at the discoloured bandages. "It will leave a permanent scar, I'm afr—" He narrowed his eyes, and retracted his last words. "It will scar." He finished firmly.

Scorpius absentmindedly fingered the edges of the dressings again. With a wound as obviously deep as the one being covered, he had enough sense to know that it was going to scar. The concussion was something he expected as well, seeing as how all of the momentum from falling rigid to the ground was absorbed in the back of his skull.

Scorpius thought he should be feeling something more than he was at someone actually _telling_ him that he was going to be a werewolf for the rest of his life. However, he hardly felt anything. He was mostly indifferent, with a little shade of resentment.

"Is that all?" He asked, sounding suddenly much older than he really was. He wondered vaguely why his parents hadn't said anything at his rude tone.

"Well, I can tell you that it will help the healing process if you drink all of the elixirs," With a wave of his wand, a row of different shaped bottles appeared on his bedside table, "And you should get a lot of rest. These next few days will be quite rough,"

He nodded, but didn't say anything.

"You should know," He began gingerly, "It's completely normal for you to be feeling angry, or alone right now. Patients infected with lycanthropy—"

"Werewolves," He interjected, not accepting the obstinately chosen word for his affliction.

"—usually go through a point after being bitten where they're extremely sensitive around other people, and easily become hostile."

"I can control my own emotions," The acidic tone to his voice said just the opposite.

The Healer almost smiled. "If you need anything, just call," With a nod toward the older couple, he walked out of the room.

There was a ringing silence in the room, in which Scorpius felt his parents' stares. They both had slightly dazed, slightly horrified looks on their faces.

Scorpius wanted so badly to cross his arms. He didn't notice how much he did it until he couldn't. Instead, he had to resort to clenching his fists, his nails digging into the skin of his palms, splitting the flesh.

"I get it, I'm a werewolf. Can you _please_ stop staring at me?" He finally snapped through gritted teeth after around five minutes of straight silence.

The other two looked taken aback.

"Son, I—"

"If you're going to say 'I'm sorry', then save it. There's no reason to be sorry. _You_ didn't do anything. 'Sorry' won't make the fact that I'm a bloody werewolf. Now if you could, please go away and save your breath for something useful, okay?" Words poured out through his thick throat, as he finally began to feel something. And what he felt was intense fury. He was looking to lash out at any and everyone who spoke to him.

"Scorpius," His mother's soft, maternal tone only caused his skin to crawl in annoyance. "Perhaps you can take your elixirs and get some rest," She suggested.

He shot a dirty look to the six bottles on his bedside table. They were on his left side, and he knew that if he reached for them, it would be painful. He tried to think of a way to get them without accepting help, headstrong as always, but he ended up just staring at them as if they'd said something to insult him.

"Where's my wand?" He asked his mother, attempting to sound pleasant. A simple _accio_ spell should do the trick…

She looked over to Draco wearily, looking for support.

He moved his gaze to his father, and raised an eyebrow.

"You're not supposed to have it while you're here," Draco said, not even attempting to beat around the bush while his son was so irate.

Scorpius took a sharp intake of breath, and felt his entire body heat up. "Excuse me?" He asked; his eyes filled with venom.

"In your time of, well, irritability, they thought that it would be best to keep your wand away from you, to keep you from doing any sort of rash spells." Draco didn't tear his gaze away from his son's. He knew the expression in the younger boy's eyes, seeing as how Draco himself had mastered it many years earlier. It didn't intimidate him one bit.

"'_Rash spells_'?" He echoed; bitter amusement laced within his tone. "Yes, it's quite a wonderful idea to keep my wand away from me right now, seeing as how last time I didn't have my wand for a little bit, it went over _so_ well," He glanced deliberately at his shoulder.

Draco and Astoria simultaneously sighed. It was a mixture of guilt, exasperation, and almost relief at the fact that their son's dramatic nature hadn't changed.

"You won't need to defend yourself in here," Astoria reasoned.

The irony of this aggravated him more. "Yes, it's _completely_ safe for me to be in the same ward with other _werewolves _without a wand."

"Son, it's nowhere near the full moon." Draco said, rubbing his temples.

"Yeah, I know that, thanks," His tone was extremely dry, and he looked again at his bandages.

"So, there's nothing for you to worry about," Astoria chirped, her voice thick with unshed tears.

"Why don't you just take your elixirs and get some rest?" Draco asked, again sounding old and tired, purposefully glancing at his wife, unseen by her.

Scorpius suddenly felt the weight pressing down on his chest again as he looked at his tear-streaked mother's face. He then remembered that he wasn't the only one affected by this. He remembered how the Malfoys as a family were still trying to redeem themselves for their war crimes nearly twenty years ago, and that having a werewolf in the family wouldn't help anything. He remembered how the wizarding world viewed werewolves in general… how they were ridiculed, and feared and even _hunted_ in some places… how they were monsters in wizards' eyes, and how he and his family would now have to live with these added labels against them…

He suddenly felt the need to either scream, or just sleep for days on end to forget everything. Blinking back what he was sure would be tears if he wasn't careful, he swallowed his pride and asked, "Can I have the potions?" despairingly.

A strange sort of warm smile crossed his mother's face, as she picked up two of the six bottles. They were in order of which to take, so it wasn't hard to figure out.

One by one, his mother handed them to him. He put them to his lips with his good arm, and tipped his head back, ignoring his reining headache, as he swallowed each one with ease. He figured that each one had an individual taste and viscosity, but he couldn't taste anything, let alone recognize characteristics of each. In fact, Scorpius couldn't feel anything, not even his own heartbeat. Despite the mixture of potions pooling in his stomach, he felt completely drained and empty.

The last elixir slid down his throat; this one was immediately effective, causing his eyelids to droop, and his body to feel heavy.

As carefully as he could in his suddenly half-conscious state, he lay down, facing away from his parents, and shut his eyes.

* * *

His first thought upon waking, other than a nonverbal groan at his invariable headache, was that he was irritated again. Two male voices were conversing, in considerately quiet voices, but they still woke Scorpius up.

When he first awoke, he didn't care enough to listen to them speaking, and only tried to go back to sleep. He tried to roll over to his other side, groaning, but was soon sitting straight up, all air escaping his body as his shoulder was once again pierced deeply with unseen knives.

He shut his eyes tightly against the sudden feeling, and gripped his abused sheets tightly in his fists. His breath was coming harder and faster, but he tried to keep quiet as possible. Scorpius hated looking vulnerable, even when it was completely reasonable.

"Scorpius? Do you need a Healer?" His father asked anxiously, moving closer to the boy, noticing the sudden movement in the room.

"I'm fine," He lied through gritted teeth. Opening his cloudy eyes, he saw the hazy outline of another man, slightly shorter than his father, with unruly black hair. He eyed him appraisingly.

"Hello, Scorpius," The man said, his voice sounding familiar. "I'm Harry Potter," He stuck his hand out.

Scorpius shook it, suddenly feeling dumb that he didn't recognize the man; it wasn't like his face wasn't everywhere, with bold, flashy headlines that said "Savior of the Wizarding World!" even after twenty years. "Hello," He mumbled almost shyly. He didn't want to feel intimidated, but he could undeniably feel a sort of skin-crawling sensation in the presence of the man.

Draco looked annoyed at the fact that Harry was somehow helping him… again. He was crossing his arms, and Scorpius looked at that simple gesture enviously.

Harry shot a cheeky look at Draco, who was glaring a hole in the back of his head from across the room. The fact that the famously cold Draco Malfoy's son was becoming bashful in his presence would have been laughable in more a more lighthearted situation.

Draco wanted to scold his son, but couldn't find the heart to as his eyes moved from his flushed face to his newly cleaned bandages that were already tinged with blood. His cold, angry expression softened, as guilt overtook his features for the umpteenth time.

"What do you need from Scorpius, Potter?" He asked, suddenly weary.

"There's no need to be so hasty, Malfoy," Harry became stern, "Don't you think we should give him a little more time to heal before bothering him?"

His brow furrowed in frustration. He didn't like to be spoken around, as if he wasn't in the room.

"Well, Potter, I'd like to just get all the painful parts over with, and I'm sure Scorpius feels the same,"

"Painful?" Scorpius asked, both curiously and anxiously.

"Only figuratively, son," Draco assured him.

A weight of dread lifted from the pit of Scorpius's stomach.

"What would you be bothering me with?" He asked firmly, not accepting the fact that they were going to keep something away from him.

"Are you sure you don't want to rest a little longer before having to listen to this?" Harry asked carefully, leaning forward slightly in the chair beside his bed.

"Listen to what?"

That was enough of an answer for Harry. Exhaling, he began, "If I could guess anything about the way Malfoy would raise his son, it would to teach him to be tough as nails," He said, almost to himself. The Malfoys in the room gave identical smug smirks.

"Scorpius, I'm sure you're aware of how people see werewolves in the world,"

Scorpius's heart sank. He knew he was going to have to hear this at some point, and have his eyes fully opened to the subject of prejudices, but he wished he _had_ waited a little longer. There was already enough going on with his emotions…

Feeling numb again, he nodded.

"Well, as you know, people base their opinions mostly on creatures like Fenrir Greyback,"

A shot of pain that had nothing to do with his shoulder shot straight through Scorpius's gut.

"Things like the Wolfsbane Potion and the Werewolf Register have helped; people have lightened up towards werewolves, but still aren't peaceful. Many prejudiced people still consider them very Dark creatures."

Scorpius stared down at his sheets, feeling empty, but full of Harry's words all at once.

"I'm not threatening you," Harry assured him, "Because I knew a werewolf once who was one of the best men I'd ever known," He beamed with pride at the memory of Remus Lupin. "I just thought it would be better to warn you in person of the extreme intolerance you may face at one point or another."

Scorpius nodded, feeling a little better at Harry's pride of a werewolf.

"People can get in trouble with the law if they bully you because of it, son," Draco said solemnly, speaking for the first time during the conversation.

Harry nodded in agreement. "But also, we as a department can do our best to keep the fact from the general population, if that's what you want."

The thought of _more_ bullying was horrific… the thought of putting in the effort to keep his affliction a secret was just as bad.

"What do you want, son?" Draco asked softly.

Scorpius looked at him for a moment, contemplating that million-Galleon question. What _did_ he want?

"I want," He began slowly, "To be able to cross my arms again." He finished, completely honestly, looking enviously at his father's arm position again.

Harry cracked a smile. "Completely understandable." He stood from his seat, and walked towards the doorway. "We can figure the details later, Draco. For now, just let him rest."

Draco nodded curtly.

Sympathetically, Harry clapped a hand on his old school-rival's shoulder. "It's not the end of the world."

"I know," he replied, looking uncomfortable at the sudden affection from the man who once nearly killed him.

With a final smile, Harry walked out of the room. Tentatively as always, Draco stepped towards his son.

Scorpius was feeling moody again. His life just sort of sucked at the moment in his eyes. He gripped the sheets, wanting desperately to be able to move his arm again.

Now that he paid actual attention to said arm, he realized that it wasn't hurting nearly as badly anymore. Whatever combination of potions he took must've done _something_ right, because he hardly noticed that he had a wound.

"My arm feels better," He pointed out.

Draco's tense face lightened a little. "Yes, they gave you elixirs to relieve the pain,"

Scorpius nodded. "Can I move it, do you think?" he asked, excitement sparkling in his eyes for the first time all day.

"I'm not sure…" He replied hesitantly.

His heart beating for a reason again, Scorpius braced himself against the pain that may or may not have been there.

He bent his arm at the elbow. _So far, so good_ he thought, as he felt no immediate discomfort.

Not getting his hopes up too much, Scorpius focused all of his attention on his shoulder. His muscles tensed again, and he tentatively rolled his shoulder.

He winced, expecting the stinging to return. And it did, just not to its usual caliber. There was just enough of the pain to be noticeable, but not enough to complain about.

He felt strangely satisfied at the throb of the pain, almost as if he didn't _want_ it to go completely away. Scorpius looked up at his father, who was looked at him with an expression of expectant anxiety.

A wide grin spread across Scorpius's face as he made a show of crossing his arms.

* * *

Scorpius awoke, not knowing he'd even fallen asleep. The damned headache, tramping back, caused him to sit up, and roll his shoulder a few times for good measure. A faint tingle went up his spine, and he clenched his back teeth, but smiled straight afterwards.

"Dad?" He asked the empty room, looking around.

Almost in a creepy manner, Draco slid in from a corner Scorpius wasn't aware even existed. "Yes?"

"I want to go home."

For what seemed like the billionth time, Draco looked remorseful. The two-and-a-half weeks of Apparating from the Hospital to the Manor and back more than four times a day were beginning to take a toll on him. He felt tired, and ragged, and not up to his usual par whatsoever. Watching your only son twitch and groan in his sleep, watching him keep a weak sense of humor, saying "Bottoms up," and making unpleasant faces when he drinks down six to eight potions in one sitting, watching him try to keep from writhing in pain when he gets his dressing changed three times daily, has that effect on some people. "Son," He began uneasily.

Scorpius crossed his arms, smirking internally, and raised an eyebrow. Not only was the boy stir-crazy, sitting stationary for over two weeks, but he was sick of the House-Elves' cooking (only Mitzi could make his meals to his liking), and sick of seeing the pitying expressions from passing patients and Healers and visitors alike.

He wished _he_ had visitors once in a while…

"You need to stay here, with Healers, until you've completely recovered."

Scorpius only held his father's gaze defiantly.

The older Malfoy was starting to look incredibly uncomfortable. He never quite learned the "put your foot down" bit of parenting, mostly since Scorpius was never inclined to requesting ridiculous things like now.

"I've been here over two weeks. My bite isn't bleeding anymore. I'm mentally stable as I've ever been and probably ever will be. I'm ready to leave."

"Scorpius, it's not your decision. You're still underage."

This only flared up the younger man's temper more. "Right. It's your decision as of now. Just consider that I'm fu—bloody miserable here, and would be better off at home, where you wouldn't have to hear me yelling at you for everything you say." All of this came out very quickly and smoothly—save for the moment where he had to correct his language—, with ice and venom mingling in a puddle around Draco's feet.

"I could ask the Healers, but I doubt they'll agree with your requests," He was still stern, but equally as uneasy.

Almost as if on cue, one of the many Healers in the ward, a younger, mousy-looking woman shuffled into the room, a tight hold on her clipboard.

"Scorpius Malfoy?"

He nodded tersely.

"Is there anything you need at the moment?" She asked briskly, her voice more confident than her appearance.

"I want to go home." He said, almost too directly.

She looked taken aback by his abruptness. "I'm sorry?"

He repeated the same words, just more slowly.

The Healer exhaled deeply, surveying her clipboard for a few seconds before turning back to Scorpius, who was waiting pseudo-patiently.

"You can't go home yet."

"Why not?" He shot sharply.

"You have to stay through your first full moon, and then you're allowed to go. It has to do with the new Ministry Safety implementation."

"First full moon?" He echoed hollowly. "That's in almost two weeks."

"Yes, it is." She nodded.

"I'm not staying here for two more weeks, sorry." He snarled, tensing his crossed arms. She looked at him sternly. He was reminded greatly of Headmistress McGonagall. He opened his mouth to continue, when he was interrupted.

"Potter!" Draco said, standing back up.

"Sorry to barge in," Harry apologized, closing the door behind him.

The mousy Healer suddenly seemed to awaken, and stood straighter. "It's quite all right, Mr. Potter." She fluttered.

Scorpius rolled his eyes theatrically. Draco withheld a snort.

"We were just speaking about the Ministry Safety measures against people infected with lycanthropy."

"Werewolves," Scorpius chimed in dryly. All adults ignored him.

"Really now? That's funny, because that's what I'm here for,"

She looked at him strangely. "I thought they would keep that job for someone from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, like they usually do."

"Well, this is a rather special case," Harry's demeanor was suddenly stiff, his voice colder.

"Yes, of course," She shrunk back. "Then I ought to leave you to it," As quickly as she could without running, she backed out of the room.

Scorpius was watching their little exchange interestedly. As soon as the door closed behind the woman, and Harry took a seat next to Draco, he asked, "Why am I a special case?"

Harry smirked slightly. Of course the Malfoy boy would think he's something new and unique in the world of werewolves… "You're still in school. Most werewolves are out of school at the time of their bite." He explained.

Scorpius nodded understandingly. Draco sat rigidly beside the Potter, staring intently from his son to the Auror.

"What are you here for, Potter?" Draco asked, trying not to sound hostile.

"To explain the new Werewolf Policy, actually,"

Scorpius's jaw tightened, but he didn't say anything.

"You see, before you can go back to school, or are in any non-secluded public places, really, the new policy is that you have to be certified as Safe by the Ministry. There's no formal test, and you don't have to worry about it much. The Wolfsbane Potion will subdue any real hazards, but you just need to be monitored on your first full moon."

"So I'm basically on display?" He asked crossly.

Harry smiled at the young boy's rebellious nature. "Not quite. It will only be an Auror, most likely me, someone from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and your parents if they want to be there."

"Why you, Potter?" Draco asked, curiosity mingling with irritation in his voice.

Again, Harry smiled. It was really beginning to annoy Scorpius. "Because I know how important being safe at school is for a werewolf."

Draco had mental images of students' shocked and terrified expressions when, in third year, Professor Snape told the Slytherins of Professor Lupin's lycanthropy. He had a sudden, overwhelming urge to bury his head in his hands, and he did just that.

Scorpius felt both hollow and disappointed. Hollow because he never realized how many people he would be putting in danger at school, and disappointed because he never considered anyone's pain other than his family. If, for one day, he forgot to drink the Wolfsbane Potion, he would be putting a thousand students in jeopardy. Hell, he would be putting them in danger even if he _did _drink the potion…

"What if I don't go back?" He asked his voice extremely distant.

Harry got a stern expression, almost scolding, as he said, "If you're worrying about putting anyone in danger, you might as well forget about it. Draco and I had a professor in third year who was a werewolf. He was fine, and never put anyone in danger… well, until there were different circumstances…" He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking somewhat shamefaced.

He continued, after redeeming some confidence, "But he also went to school before the Wolfsbane Potion was even invented, and he never put anyone in harm's way… other than one person… again, different circumstances…" He trailed off.

This reassurance, though at any other point he would have been against being reprimanded, brought a strange sort of warmth through Scorpius. The thought that another person went through what he was going to go through made him feel like he wasn't alone. He nodded, feeling more self-assured and less void than before.

"What's the point in watching him?" Draco asked.

"To make sure he reacts well to the Potion."

"Can it be ineffective?" Scorpius asked, panic rising again.

Harry seemed to struggle with words for a few moments. "Werewolf transformations are almost like being drunk." He seemed spurred on, and words began pouring out of his mouth. "There are happy drunks, angry drunks, emotional drunks… you can tell, usually, by the first time someone drinks how they're going to be. Well, the same concept applies with lycanthropic transformations. Even with the influence of the Wolfsbane Potion, people still vary in their attitudes when in wolf form. If they're peaceful, or scared, the first time, you can easily count on the fact that they're going to be relatively peaceful for the rest of their lives, until they're disturbed."

The analogy made Scorpius and Draco nod simultaneously in understanding.

Scorpius glanced towards his father, who was watching Harry with a strange expression, almost proudly, with guilt in there somewhere. Noticing Scorpius looking at him, Draco gave his son a small smile and nod.

The younger Malfoy, for the first time in a while, smiled. He suddenly felt secure, and confident that he was going to be okay at school. It must have been something genetic with being a Malfoy that had to do with titles: being considered Safe by the Ministry was the conclusion, the only thing that mattered now.

"Do you want to be there, Malfoy?" Harry asked.

"Yes." He replied swiftly.

"And Astoria?"

"She wouldn't be able to handle it, I don't think." He looked down at his hands. His wife broke into tears at the simplest of sights: her son rolling over with a groan in his sleep was enough to set her off. Draco, thinking it was in her best interest, suggested she only visit once a day. She seemed to think this was a good idea, since she only came around noon, staying until three or four o'clock every day.

The aging Potter nodded, and silence filled the still air.

"What I would recommend," Harry began again after a minute or two, "would be to mark your calendar every full moon, so you know exactly which days you need to take the Potion. You _have_ to take it once a day for seven days before the full moon for it to be effective." He paused, looking intently at Scorpius, making sure he had his undivided attention.

Scorpius nodded. He figured he was going to do this anyway, so he would know exactly when he was going to become a monster every month.

"Who's going to make the potion?" Draco inquired.

"Who's the Potions Professor this year? Still Slughorn?"

Scorpius nodded.

"I would trust him to make it. But, if you would like someone from the Ministry to make it and send it each month, it would be rather costly, and it would take longer, which runs the risk of having it arrive too late—"

"Professor Slughorn can make it." Scorpius decided. As much as the dead beat Professor annoyed him some days, with his hero's worship of the Potter and Weasley clan, he was more than competent.

"I agree," Draco affirmed.

Harry nodded. "The first full moon is in about a week and a half."

"I know," Scorpius grumbled.

"So you'll have to stay here until then, and then you can leave two days afterward."

Scorpius didn't say anything, just looked away in indignation.

"You should be receiving your first potion on Friday."

"Looking forward to it." Scorpius murmured mockingly.

Harry smiled, and stood up to leave.

* * *

Scorpius was shaking with terror.

The ten days passed like a blur, time seeming to speed up just to spite him.

He never realized the exact gravity of his situation until he was sitting, curled up, and in the corner of a Quidditch-field sized room, waiting for the sun outside to set, for the warm light coming in through a miniscule window at the top corner of the room to cease streaming in, to be replaced with pale moonlight.

The appearance of the room itself was enough to petrify the new werewolf. The high, gray walls that looked like they were once white were ruined with vicious scratches and human-sized indentions, making the surface more textured than smooth. There was patchy, yellowing grass on the ground that hardly covered the cold concrete floor. It was cold, with the dank, still air breathing against Scorpius's clammy skin. The overall feel of the room was that it was like a dungeon: a place to which people were exiled, to be left alone.

Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, and a ruffled-looking man somewhere in his early sixties were standing at the furthest edge of the room from Scorpius. They all added to the foreboding tension in the air. Draco was standing too still, too straight. Harry's stance was one of forced casualness, his face holding a very serious expression. The old man, gripping one of the clipboards that Scorpius had grown to loathe, looked uptight and tired, but very concentrated.

The bitter, unpleasant taste of the Wolfsbane Potion was still on Scorpius's tongue. He felt, above every other rampant emotion, nervous. The fact that there were people in the room with him only caused his restless mood to worsen, knowing that there was a chance that the Wolfsbane Potion would be rendered useless, and he would end up hurting either his father, the savior of the wizarding world, or a man who worked for the Ministry.

He licked his suddenly dry, cracking lips. His arms were aching from pulling his knees so close to his body, but he did nothing to loosen them. In the simplest terms, he was terrified of what he could possibly do. He could cause so much pain to a person; wreak so much havoc on the lives of them; _ruin_ them with a single nibble.

The inhale-exhale pattern of breathing was beginning to fail him, as he felt the time ticking before the sunset. He was gasping in great quantities of the damp air, his chest heaving. He felt subtle pains as he inhaled, like a blade stabbing him in the side.

He knew that this was just the beginning.

His nails dug into his kneecaps, which were covered in comfortably loose pajama-style pants. He saw holes begin to appear in the cottony fabric as the pinching broke through.

Then, as abrupt as when he had been bitten, the worst was upon him.

He was still looking down at his hands as his entire body began to sting terribly. His breathing became even shallower, and he soon began to feel light-headed.

It was agonizing, and horrifying; Scorpius wanted to die again.

Bright white hairs began to push themselves through the skin of Scorpius's hands, and he felt every single one break skin. Small pinches of pain suddenly accumulated to being overwhelming; he threw his head back against the roughened wall behind his, his eyes squeezed together against the pain.

There was a rapid horrible sensation spreading in his face, as if someone were stretching his skin without caring how much it marred him. He felt his face get longer, and thinner. His teeth grew longer, with just as much pain as the first time he lost a tooth and it began to grow back.

He shot a panicked glance over towards his father, only to see that he wasn't there. He hoped that whatever type of Disillusionment Charm they were under would stay in effect long enough for the wolf not to notice they were there…

A strangled moan was the first noise he dared to let out; it was inevitable that he would be in an unexplainable amount of pain, but he never quite expected it to feel _this_ wretched. His limbs felt like they were being compressed and contorted, his back pulsing and pounding in between every vertebra as he hunched forward.

Scorpius swallowed, his throat feeling arid. He knew he was almost done transforming, as he could see his nimbler limbs growing long fingernails, his palms changing texture to pads on his feet.

His tailbone was suddenly on fire. He cried aloud, only to hear a tortured howl escape his lips. This horrified him more than anything else. He was a _wolf_.

His long, tufted tail was the final bit of the change from human to wolf, and easily the most excruciating. As he felt his bones being manipulated horribly and mercilessly, the pins-and-needles feeling of the hair sprouting was in no way masked by the other pain happening in that region of his body.

He groaned, and it sounded as a growl. It was all waiting now: waiting for him to lose his mind, to smell the humans, to become as animalistic as Fenrir Greyback and murder someone…anyone.

Long after the serrated-knife sensation left his body, to be replaced with a dull pounding of every one of his limbs, he waited to lose himself. Thoughts were racing through his head, fear, and wonder, and apprehension among the most prominent. They were all extremely _human_ thoughts.

He wasn't quite sure what he had been expecting before the transformation, because, honestly, he tried to block out any thoughts of becoming a monster, but being completely in control of himself was _not_ what he had in mind.

He knew his father was there, along with Harry Potter and the old man, but he didn't want to hurt them; he felt no need to go and tear them to shreds.

Scorpius cautiously raised his nose and sniffed. His sense of smell was incredibly acute, and he could make out individual scents of every single werewolf that had ever been in the room before him. The fainter ones seemed infinitely more violent than the newer ones… and that's when Scorpius realized something:

The potion had been one hundred percent effective.

He _wasn't_ a mindless monster. He _wasn't_ going to hurt anyone, because he had the rule of his own actions. He wasn't like Fenrir Greyback…

The thought of biting someone made him sick to his stomach, which in turn made his heart soar. He whined, high-pitched, and curled into himself even more. The feel of the surprisingly soft fur against his leathery nose was strange. The thought that he was now an _animal_ was surreal. Though he knew he wasn't as dangerous as he feared, Scorpius didn't want to take any chances.

For hours, he stayed lying down on the prickly grass, his sensitive eyes darting around the abused room. He counted the seconds in perfect rhythm, tremendously bored, but still somewhat afraid. He completely ignored the dull ache of all of his muscles as it slowly and steadily lessened into no pain at all.

After counting approximately three hours of seconds, he felt his eyes drooping.

First, he felt more fear. He feared that this would be a time that he would be losing himself, and he would still be conscious, just not in control any longer.

Then he felt the familiar sensation of restful, exhausted sleep come upon him, and he knew that the worst was over.

* * *

"What's the verdict, Potter? Will he be able to go back to school?" Draco asked anxiously, whispering, as his son lay sleeping on his bed, now fully human.

"I certified him as Safe; now it's just up to the Ministry to approve it and contact McGonagall." Harry was always happy when werewolves proved to be harmless; this was no exception.

"And he's going to stay Safe?"

"Werewolves are pretty consistent on how they react to both the Potion and humans being around; Scorpius remained in control of his actions."

Draco beamed with pride. "And he'll stay in control for the rest of his life?"

"Unless there's something that causes other circumstances."

Draco looked down at his hands, a weight pressing on his chest. "I just want him to be safe, and not have to worry about hurting anyone."

"Professor Lupin was fine at Hogwarts, until Snape interfered… twice. And that was before the Wolfsbane Potion was even created." Harry reassured him.

"But that means that there's a chance that someone will find out about him?" His eyes widened and panic resounded in his voice.

"Of course there's a possibility; there always is. Sirius Black found out about Remus first, but he, my father, and Peter Pettigrew at the time, were trustworthy people.

"It's not like it's extremely difficult to read the signs that someone is a werewolf if you pay enough attention. Always sick around the same time of the month, missing classes for days at a time… and full moons all fall on weekdays this year. Given the fact that Scorpius isn't a quiet little wallflower, at least one person is bound to notice. You just have to hope that's it someone who you can trust." Harry chose to be honest instead of comforting. He knew Draco would prefer the truth.

"And if they're not?" Draco's voice was very tight.

"The Ministry can punish people who threaten the welfare of a Safe werewolf, no matter their age." He reminded the other man.

This assuaged Draco's worry.

* * *

_Dear Messrs Malfoy,_

_The fact that Scorpius is infected with lycanthropy does not change the fact that he has two more years to complete at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

_We, as a staff, will assure the utmost comfort for Mr. Malfoy in the time of his difficulty, and every absence due to his lycanthropy will be automatically excused._

_At your wishes, it will be kept silent that Mr. Malfoy is a werewolf. I trust that he doesn't plan to advertise this fact, and as a result, it will be overlooked in __favor__ of his education. _

_There will be a private room reserved for him every month at the full moon in the Hospital Wing. Professor Slughorn is chosen to brew the Wolfsbane Potion in advance; in the week prior to the full moon, Scorpius will be required to make an appointment to come and consume the potion. Failure to do so will result in dire consequences._

_Scorpius will be required to make up all assignments from classes he will miss due to the lycanthropy._

_The Hogwarts Express will leave from King's Cross station on September first. Expect an Auror escort to take both of you to the station promptly at eight o'clock in the morning._

_Enclosed is a list of supplies required for Year Six at Hogwarts._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Headmistress_

A smile spread across Scorpius's face in spite of himself. He could almost hear McGonagall's tight-lipped, stern tone as she scolded him and his father for considering taking him out of school, and forewarned him of the consequences of not doing his homework.

This was all real. He was exhausted, despite hours of deep sleep, sitting slumped against the same uncomfortable bed as the past month. He was calmed, but still a little shaken, at the fact that he had become a relatively undisruptive wolf.

He shot a grin at his father, who was breathing a deep sigh of relief. Draco managed a small smile in return.

Scorpius was going back to Hogwarts.

* * *

**A/N:** I know, I know, still lots of exposition. Don't hate me for it... XP Next chapter, Rose shows up, though, so prepare for tension and fluff and friendship and humor and drama and every other reason to love a fic!

I put poor Scorpius through so much pain… I'm sorry, Scorpius! :'( I do love you!

I love Remus Lupin. I just _had_ to mention him. :D I sure wish he didn't die, though… or marry Tonks, which is pretty much just as bad… HE BELONGS WITH SIRIUS! But they _did_ have a pretty cool kid, Teddy... but he ends up with Victorie, who is his not-very-distant cousin... wizard inbreeding ftw!

Am I the only one who senses sexual tension in everything I write??? Honestly, I couldn't write a scene with Harry and Draco in it together without thinking, '_God, no I have to re-word that,_' three thousand times to assure myself that they aren't about to pounce on each other… :D Ironically enough, this began as an Albus/Scorpius pairing. Then I realized that it was just a sad attempt to write a Remus/Sirius fic, and I abandoned the idea. So, eventual Rose/Scorpius it is! (And I love them together, obviously, so I don't mind at all :D)

It's never too late to put this on** STORY ALERT**! There are more than ten chapters to come!

PLEASE_PLEASE__**PLEASE**_review! Even if it's to send me a virtual _Sectumsempra_ because you want to cut my ear off like George or "accidentally" kill me like Draco. :D

K. I'm done. XP

Love you readers and reviewers!

_KitKat Pyrophobia_


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Homophobes of the world would _really_ hate if I owned it… hello prequel, starring the Marauders, and centering on Remus and Sirius's disgustingly fluffy, romantic relationship! XP

**A/N:** I really like the Shakespeare quote for this one… it's a very poetic way of saying "It's now or never". :D

* * *

_If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to  
come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come—the  
readiness is all. Since no man, of aught he leaves, knows what is't  
to leave betimes, let be._

Hamlet Act 5, Scene 2

* * *

"Why do _you_ have to be our escort, Weasley?" Draco asked grudgingly.

Ron rolled his eyes at the familiar head in dancing emerald flames. "I've known you for thirty years, and I've been an Auror for around fifteen of them, Malfoy. Would you rather some stranger hold your family's secret in their hands?" He raised an eyebrow, and leaned back on two legs of his chair, his arms crossed. He rather enjoyed having the upper hand. He didn't plan on using the fact to blackmail the man in any way whatsoever, but having Malfoy know that he was in a lose-lose situation was sweet victory in Ron's mind.

Draco didn't respond, but only pierced the redhead with his eyes.

"I'll drive to the Manor at eight," Ron moved to stand up from his cozy chair in his sitting room.

"What is 'drive'?" Draco's brow furrowed at the foreign word.

"Drive? With a car, like the Muggles."

"Like how you flew to school in Second Year?" He seemed to strain to remember.

"Yes, but on the ground."

"How does it go, then?" It was crazy talk, to suggest that something could move without some magical force acting on it.

"Using a motor." Ron tried to keep the explanation as simple as possible, seeing as how _he_ didn't grasp the concept entirely himself.

"A _what_?" This only confused Draco more, his mind reeling to recall a time when he'd ever heard the word.

"Don't worry about it, Malfoy." The other man rolled his eyes.

"No, I can't go in something that I don't understand how it goes!" He protested.

"Malfoy, listen, if you don't want me to take you, you can just Apparate and see how things go from there." Ron knew fully well that Draco was told of the new Ministry policy: though now certified as Safe, Scorpius had to be monitored in crowded places to see how he reacted around groups of people.

Draco didn't like the tone of superiority the redhead had. "No, you listen, Weasel, you—"

"Oh, hello, Mr. Malfoy," Rose said pleasantly, her figure appearing at the doorway. She'd come down the hallway because she heard her father's voice getting more and more stressed, and wanted to see what the commotion was about.

"Hello…" He struggled to remember her name… how was he supposed to keep up with the Weasleys when they bred like nifflers?

"Rose," She filled in for him, her polite smile never faltering.

Ron smiled at his daughter's perfect timing. Having her around meant that they could now only have limited conversation. Frankly, he was quite ready for the exchange to be over anyway. "I'll be at the Manor at eight, okay?" He repeated.

"All right." Draco scowled. "If you're a minute late, Weasley, I'm Apparating."

"Duly noted." Ron rolled his eyes again.

With a final look of distaste, in the blink of an eye, Draco's head was gone, and normal orange-and-yellow flames crackled in the fireplace.

"Why do you have to go to Malfoy Manor?" Rose asked curiously, blocking the doorway to the room cleverly.

"Work stuff," Ron mumbled, trying to think of a way to elude her.

"What about taking me to King's Cross tomorrow?" She asked, looking at him expectantly.

"Your mother can take you."

"No she can't; she's trying Fenrir Greyback tomorrow, remember?" Though he didn't have the longest attention-span in the world, she thought her father could remember the headlines of the _Daily Prophet_ for weeks straight; she thought an _Auror_ would remember that they'd _finally _caught Fenrir Greyback.

Ron bit his lip with ears reddening, finding himself in an unfavorable situation. "I suppose you'll just have to go with me."

His daughter's eyebrows shot up. "Go with you? To Malfoy Manor?"

The older man nodded soberly, looking none too pleased at the decision.

"All right, then." She moved away from the doorway, trying to look as indifferent as possible.

His expression expertly conveying his feelings of exasperation, Ron rubbed his temples and trudged down the narrow hallway to his and Hermione's bedroom.

Rose followed him down the same hallway, but turned at a different door, instead going to her own, comfortable, pale yellow bedroom, nerves erupting in the pit of her stomach.

It wasn't like Rose had some kind of intense, inescapable, tragically unrequited crush on Scorpius Malfoy, or anything remotely along those lines; she just found him very intimidating. He was the type of boy who sat alone at most times, hardly ever talked unless spoken to first, and above all, rarely smiled in general public.

The two spoke, polite, casual conversation, from time to time on Prefect duty and things of the like, but he remained the only person who could ever really make her fidget.

Girls, for obvious reasons, loved to gossip about the boy. They'd coined him the 'Mysterious Heartthrob' (which made Rose want to vomit). She saw right through the fact that they liked him because he was "mysterious", which he was in his own way. They were only interested because the way he looked.

She wasn't denying that he was good-looking, but she knew that there was more to each person than their outward appearance.

He wasn't a particularly cold or cruel person; he was just naturally distant, quite the opposite of friendly, personable Rose Weasley. She figured that he was probably normal enough, but quiet because of all the bullying he endured up until Third Year. Rose wasn't one to sit back and watch him get provoked daily: she provided a few rather generous hexes to the people who picked on him when she felt it necessary. He didn't know about this, of course, and she preferred it this way.

She couldn't imagine how awkward she would feel going to his _house_…

Exhaling, she checked and re-checked the contents of her bulky trunk before crawling into bed.

* * *

The thought of going to school, as usual, excited Scorpius. He found himself going over what he packed repeatedly the night of August thirty-first, like every year, making sure he had everything necessary for his Sixth Year. All of his textbooks were piled neatly in the corner of his trunk, his Defense text on top, as he found himself reading and re-reading the book when he got bored. (He had the 'Werewolves' chapter nearly memorized.)

Defense Against the Dark Arts was easily his favorite class, with all the practical use that could come out of the facts and spells they learned. He was never ashamed when the Professor introduced a new lesson by saying that what they were learning was applied during the Second War, fighting against Death Eaters. Despite the teacher constantly getting antsy, and avoiding his eye, he felt, if anything, proud at how far his family had come in the years after the War.

Next to his books were his neatly folded blue and bronze ties ("Ravenclaw?" His father had echoed. His nose wrinkled slightly. "At least it's not Hufflepuff…"), his button-up shirts, and his uniform slacks. He re-straightened the generous stack of white shirts, before a thought struck him.

He pulled one out of the stack, laid it out on his navy bedspread, and pulled off his sweater. He replaced it with the button-up, leaving the top two buttons undone per usual. Looking in his floor-length mirror at his reflection, he noticed that the edge of his now fully-distinguishable, and rather hideous, scar peeked out from beneath his collar. He grimaced in disgust, just seeing the very tip of it.

There was no way he was going to get asked about the scar by anyone at school: he didn't have the energy to make up a plausible story, and he didn't want to hear their pity. It was hard enough to live with knowing he could kill any of these people at any given full moon… he didn't want to think about it when it wasn't near the full moon. The memories always gave him the impression that he was falling by the way his stomach dropped.

Absolutely _refusing_ to look like a dorky git and button his shirt all the way up, he looked for an alternative. He unbuttoned the top, and was looking around his wardrobe when he saw the solution to his problem.

He pulled out the thin, dark turtleneck and pulled it over his head, layering the button-up over it. Looking back in the mirror, he saw that it covered the scar perfectly.

Smirking haughtily at his brilliance, he took every turtleneck and high-necked shirt he owned out of his wardrobe and miraculously found a way to fit the new abundance of clothing in with the rest of his belongings in the full-to-bursting trunk. He once again was grateful for his talent at the Bottomless Bag Charm.

Scowling at the discolored scar again once his chest was again bare, he remembered that the next full moon wasn't even two entire weeks into the school term.

A little more violently than needed, he pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a thermal shirt, and lay down.

Concentrating hard on his desire for darkness in the already dimly-lit room, he closed his fingers around his nimble wand and thought _Nox_.

The room immediately darkened as the temperature dropped, and he couldn't think of a more comfortable way to fall asleep.

* * *

It took Rose until the time she was sitting in the backseat of her father's small car with her trunk to keep her company to notice that she'd dressed up quite more than was called for. Sure, it was rather chilly, being September, but as she fidgeted with the slate-gray denim fabric clinging to her thighs, she realized that her best, warmest, most expensive, tailored coat wasn't really needed on the long drive to Hogwarts.

* * *

It was a very odd moment in the Malfoy establishment: Scorpius was nearly bouncing in his seat with excitement; Draco was sipping his black coffee in uncharacteristic silence, void of his usual early-morning complaining, his silvery eyes darting from the same _Prophet _entry to the door every few seconds; Astoria was busying herself around the kitchen. The woman, who once took great advantage of the fact that there were elves in the world, was doing _housework_

.

Needless to say, the air in the measureless kitchen was thick.

Scorpius wasn't hungry, but still ate his burnt batch of eggs for his mother's sanity. His pure silver, goblin-made utensils clinked together rather loudly, and Draco twitched with every small sound.

Scorpius smiled to himself, recalling a Care of Magical Creatures lesson in Third Year, when Professor Scamander introduced them to a bunch of Hippogriffs, who, at the time, were sleeping. He vividly remembered the sight of one spasm and emitting odd noises, dreaming, in the exact manner his father was.

Though both of his parents were acting strangely, though he knew that this year was going to be completely different than any before, Scorpius couldn't help the feeling of ecstatic anxiety percolating in his chest overtake any negative thoughts or emotions he had.

* * *

"Rose, what street was that?" Ron asked, leaning forward on the steering wheel for a better view of whatever he was looking for.

The redhead, whose eyes were on the pages of _A Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6_, looked behind them, only to see that the street sign was out of view. "I didn't see it, Dad, sorry." She responded brightly.

Ron grumbled something unintelligible, save for a few colorful curse words and the words "Malfoy" and something that sounded relative to "ferret".

Rose smiled into the words on the pages in front of her, no longer able to concentrate on them. She, instead, gazed out the window of the car, absorbing the scenery.

People and buildings were steadily becoming rare, instead replaced with dense trees, leaves beginning to tint with autumn colors. The paved road transitioned to one of dirt, and she was slightly surprised that the countryside was so serene. She didn't know why she suspected otherwise, but she didn't quite imagine the Manor to be in such a warm atmosphere.

Ron pressed on the breaks in the middle of the road, startling Rose.

She looked at him with a questioning expression.

"We're here," He replied simply.

She furrowed her brow and looked around, not seeing the grand, ostentatious mansion she'd been expecting. In fact, she didn't see anything at all, other than the same clusters of trees she'd been watching from out the window for miles.

"Where is it?" She asked, opening the door of the car.

"You'll see it in a minute," Ron responded, getting out as well, and starting down a worn path Rose hadn't noticed before.

She pulled her dark green pea-coat more tightly around her for a sense of security, and followed her father down the path, craning her neck every few steps for an indication of a manor.

* * *

Scorpius, for what seemed like the billionth time, glanced toward the clock. Seven fifty-seven.

"Dad, when are we leaving?" He asked his father, who was still looking at the _Prophet_, though his eyes had stopped moving across the page long ago.

Draco's grip on his mug of coffee tightened. "Whenever Weasley gets here."

Scorpius's brow furrowed. "Weasley?"

"Our escort," The older man's teeth clenched.

This only confused Scorpius more. "Rose Weasley?"

"No, no," Draco waved his hand impatiently. "Her father, Ron. He's an Auror."

The younger Malfoy nodded, finally understanding. "When is he supposed to be here?"

"In two minutes."

Scorpius nodded again.

Draco went back to wincing as the clock ticked, and Astoria still hadn't stopped Scorgifying the kitchen. Scorpius looked at her, concerned for her well being.

"Mum, do you want some help?" He asked carefully.

The plate she was obsessive-compulsively cleaning suddenly dropped to the ground and shattered noisily.

Both of the blonds stood immediately.

Draco muttered a _Reparo_, and crossed slowly over to his wife, resting a hand on the small of her back. "Astoria?"

Tear-filled blue eyes turned toward Draco's gray ones.

Intimacy between his parents generally made Scorpius uncomfortable. So did his mother's routine reactions to him leaving for school every year. Feeling that he was going to get an eyeful of both situations, Scorpius silently slipped out of the room.

His mother was a pro at making him feel guilty. Every year, on cue, on August thirty-first, she burst into tears and fawned over her son, incoherently blubbering about how he used to be so little, how much she would miss him, how far away Christmas was… plus she always mixed in a few stories about the first time he did magic ("You were only three years old! Draco said that it was my clumsiness, but I _swear_ that you were the one who made me drop the glass!"), or the first time he rode a broom ("Draco had to go up and get you, you were going so high!"). After five years of the same thing, Scorpius had become desensitized, but not wholly apathetic.

This year, with the added complication of her worry for his safety and the safety of his new lycanthropic secret, he wondered if his father would _ever _be able to calm her down.

He rubbed his now-throbbing temples as he walked down one of many long corridors in his home, winding his way through the great maze to his bedroom.

"—shouldn't you have knocked or something?" The sound of a hushed voice in the entrance hall caused Scorpius to stop in his tracks and listen.

"Did you see a doorbell, Rosie?" An agitated voice asked.

"Well, no, but—"

"Malfoy?" The man's voice called.

Scorpius recognized easily that these two were Ron and Rose Weasley.

He stepped into the foyer, catching sight of the pair. Ron, his vivid red hair looking rather unsaturated, stood tense and rigid, his lanky arms crossed over his chest, glaring at some suit of armor to his right. Rose stood a few feet behind him, casually, hands clasped behind her back, her caramel-colored eyes shining in awe as she gazed around the picturesque house.

Feeling the slightest bit awkward, Scorpius cleared his throat loudly.

Sullen, Ron looked over to the boy. "Hello, Scorpius," He said with strained politeness.

"Hello, Mr. Weasley." He nodded cordially towards the man, "Rose," He repeated the gesture towards the sixteen-year-old girl.

Rose smiled softly, if a little nervously, and said, "Hello, Scorpius."

"I'll go get my father," He declared, inwardly proud to take charge of the situation.

When Ron nodded, Scorpius turned on his heel and walked back down the same hallway from which he came, pointedly ignoring the haughty stares and protests of "Blood traitors in my home?" from his ancestors' endowed portraits.

Coming upon the kitchen once more, Scorpius's ears were met the sound of shaky breaths and reassuring "shh"s. Pausing for a moment before acting, he walked through the doorway, rapping his knuckles quietly on the frame.

"Dad?"

Draco's head turned from where he stood, in the exact same position he and his wife were when their son left.

"Mr. Weasley and Rose are here."

His brows knitted together, an unpleasant look appearing on his face. "Rose Weasley? Why is she here?"

"I thought you would know." Scorpius's eyebrows rose with slight skepticism.

The older man sighed deeply, as if the entire situation was a horrible bother to him, and whispered something to his wife.

Astoria nodded at whatever he said, and Draco moved away from her, sauntering down the hallway, his son two steps behind.

"Weasley," He said commandingly, reaching the entrance hall.

"Malfoy," Ron seemed equally pleased to see the other man.

"Can we chat for a moment?" He asked, malevolence evident in his voice.

"Certainly," Ron replied just as venomously, walking over to the mouth of the hallway where the identical Malfoys stood.

"Why is your daughter here?" Draco whispered furiously.

"There was no one to take her to King's Cross," Ron explained just as quietly.

"Why couldn't you get Granger or Potter to do it?"

"Hermione and Harry are trying Fenrir Greyback today, Malfoy; I thought you of all people would remember that."

Draco's eyebrows shot up towards his receding hairline. The _nerve _of that man! "Weasley, you—"

"Dad," Scorpius butted in, preventing a brewing fight from forming.

Both men's heads snapped towards the boy that neither were aware was still there.

"Can we just go?" The pounding in his temples was more evident than ever.

The crease between Draco's eyebrows smoothed out, and he nodded solemnly.

The three walked out from the hall, none in high spirits.

Rose was still standing in the same spot, looking awkward, but still borderline-amazed with the splendor of Malfoy Manor. Noticing that her father was back, she glanced at a large clock near the entrance. "Dad, the train leaves in less than half an hour."

"Well, since Scorpius has to get to King's Cross as well, why don't I just drive you both?" Ron suggested casually.

Draco was about to insult Ron's intelligence, reminding him that that was the entire reason he was _there_, but a pointed look from the other man at Rose made him remember that she was still there, and wasn't supposed to know the details of their meeting. "If it wouldn't be too much of a bother,"

"No bother at all," The oiliness of Ron's voice was almost a dead-giveaway; somehow, Rose didn't notice.

"We can have a House-Elf go get your trunk…" Draco looked around briefly, as if expecting one of the creatures to pop into his line of sight. "Where's Mitzi?"

"No need, Father," He pulled out his wand from where it was hazardously located in the back pocket of his dark jeans. A look of deep focus overtook his features.

Rose and Ron both looked at him, rather confused but curious as to what he was doing.

When a sleek, black dragon-hide, trunk came zooming in through a doorway at the east of the room, it became evident that he had used a wordless _Accio_ spell.

Rose was impressed: they weren't supposed to learn silent incantations until later that year. Ron looked slightly fascinated as well, but more outraged.

"You're still underage!" Ron scolded the boy, who was now holding the heavy luggage in one hand is if it weighed nothing. "I could get you in trouble for that," He stated, his ears burning.

Scorpius looked as if he was fighting a smirk by the way the left corner of his mouth was subtly raising higher every second. "Sorry, I forgot," He said coolly.

Ron rolled his eyes at the boy before muttering, "Cheeky teenager,"

Draco snorted in amusement.

Rose, much to Ron's reproach, smiled shyly at the boy's pretentious behavior and smug half-smile.

Sure, Scorpius was showing off a bit, what with an inaudible Summoning Charm in front of an Auror when he was a year from being legal, but he _was_ a sixteen year old boy… what else was expected of him?

"I'll tell Astoria we're leaving," Draco said, and vanished from the room with a small _pop!_

In a matter of a few silent seconds, before anyone really knew what was going on, there were two sequential _pop_s!, and a woman launching herself across the room at her son.

Surprisingly prepared for what was happening after realizing it was his mother, Scorpius swiftly set down his trunk and caught his mother in her rib-crushing embrace.

Not at all embarrassed at her behavior, despite Ron and Rose's stares, he patted his teary mother on the back, vaguely wondering when he'd gotten taller than her.

"Oh, Scorpius, Sixth Year already!" She wailed into his shoulder, which was double-insulated with his deep navy turtleneck and unbuttoned black button-up. He planned to change on the train, like everyone else.

He rolled his eyes, smiling, and prepared himself for the ensuing waterworks.

"I remem-ember the f-first time y-you walked, and, and you were s-so small, and now you-you're so bi-big, and—" She buried her face in his neck, making the next words she said muffled and completely inarticulate blubbering noises to anyone but her.

"I know, I know," Scorpius said, patting her again. "But I have to go now, or else I'll miss the train,"

Astoria backed a small ways away. Her skin was blotched with red, streaked with moisture. "Okay," She said, wiping her face. "Be safe, alright? And have fun!"

"I will, don't worry." He pecked her quickly on the cheek. Picking up his trunk again, he said, "Bye, Mum, I love you."

"Bye, Scorpius, I love you, too!"

He smiled at her, and followed Ron out the door.

Rose followed him, leaving the elder Malfoy inside to comfort his wife a little longer. She quickly fell into step with her classmate. "Is she always like that?" She asked amusedly.

He smiled affectionately. "Every year."

A smile spread across Rose's face. "And I thought _my_ mum was being dramatic when she asked me to write her as soon as I got to school this morning…"

"Rose?" Ron called behind him.

She shot another smile at Scorpius before hurrying up to walk beside her father. "Yeah, Dad?"

"Did you see where I parked?" He asked sheepishly.

Rose giggled. "Over there, you see?" She pointed to a point to a general left.

Ron nodded, seeing the car.

"Weasley, what's taking so long?" Draco called from a few meters behind his son.

Ron looked strained again. "Are you kidding me, Malfoy? We've only been walking for a minute at most!"

"Why couldn't we just Apparate?"

Ron thrust his thumbs towards the teenagers, who were again walking near each other. "Sixteen," He replied simply.

Draco groaned dramatically.

Rose tried unsuccessfully to fight a smile.

"The car is right up there, Malfoy. Just wait."

With another sigh, Draco continued walking.

Rose grinned at the two men's bickering. As subtly as possible, she stole a glance at Scorpius.

It only made her smile more to see him doing the same. Her cheeks tinting pink, she, not for the first time, was equal in enlightenment with the girls at school: he really _was_ beautiful in the truest sense of the word.

"Is _that_ you car, Weasley?"

"Yes, Malfoy, this is my car." The older redhead replied through gritted teeth.

"But… it's tiny! And it looks like it'll fall apart at any moment." Draco crossed his arms and looked at the vehicle with contempt. Every word he said was a complete hyperbole; though the car wasn't a brand-new Corvette, it was still in good condition.

"It runs fine." Ron was seriously regretting his career choice; Harry was going to get an earful back at the office.

Rose fought back another smile.

Her father wrenched the car door open with unnecessary force, and fell unceremoniously into the seat.

The blond man reached out to touch the handle, but retracted his hand quickly, as if afraid of getting burned by it. Scorpius withheld a snort at his father's inflated actions, and resigned to opening the door for him.

His father murmured a "thank you", and delicately sat down in the seat. He shifted around uncomfortably for a significantly long time.

On his way around the car to the opposite door, Scorpius caught the handle before Rose had a chance to, and pulled the door open fully before continued around.

She smiled briefly, taking a final glance at the handsome manor before climbing into the car, slamming the door shut behind her.

Scorpius was already in when she got seated, his seatbelt fastened, his long legs cautiously bent so his knees didn't stab into the back of Ron's seat.

"How do you work this bloody thing?" Malfoy muttered to himself, touching the buckle, the actual belt part stretching and pulling back repeatedly enough to make it lock. "Weasley, your car is broken." He announced with pompous finality.

Ron sighed in annoyance, his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel.

Scorpius rolled his eyes and shifted forward in his seat, taking the buckle from his confused father's hand. He adjusted it to where it crossed his chest properly, and fastened it in place.

"How do _you_ know this?" Draco crossed his arms grumpily.

"I took Muggle Studies in Third Year, remember?"

Draco muttered something that the three weren't sure was a negative or affirmative.

Looking in the rearview mirror to make sure both students' trunks were neatly tucked into the back seat, he turned the key in the ignition, and the car rumbled into life.

"Whoa, hang on a minute!" Draco yelled, causing everyone to wince in surprise, groping for anything stable to hold onto.

"_What_?" Ron demanded.

"What the bloody hell is that noise?" His eyes were wide as Quaffles, his face drained of all color.

"It's just the car, Dad, calm down."

"Is it supposed to sound like a dragon?!" Draco exaggerated.

"Yes." The other man responded, opting for the least words possible.

"Merlin, help us now."

"Dad," Scorpius sighed wearily.

"Malfoy, I'm going to go now, so our kids don't miss the train, okay?" Ron didn't want anymore outbursts: driving already made him nervous enough.

Draco took a few steadying breaths, and was still holding onto the edges of the seat so tightly that his hands ached. He did _not_ trust Weasley in some kind of metal monstrosity with his son's life in his hands.

Ron eased forward. A quick look towards his old school rival told Ron that he wasn't going to say anything, so he started gradually speeding up, eventually finding himself back on the road.

The drive was generally uneventful, save for a few more of Draco's outbursts ("Weasley, slow down, you're going to run into that Muggle!" "Malfoy, I'm thirty meters away, shut_ up_!"), a few more giggles from Rose at their attitudes toward each other, and a few rare full-grins from Scorpius, who was more happy to know he was going back to school than anything.

King's Cross was bustling as usual on September first, full of young witches and wizards who were getting stares from Muggles who'd never seen the station so packed on a Thursday morning.

After Draco swearing that the seatbelt was trying to strangle him, and a few heaves of heavy trunks, the four were strolling through the first place they'd been all day where they were all comfortable.

As always, Rose immediately began scoping out the station for the Potters, to no avail. She hurried the men to Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters, where she didn't hesitate to go first through the pillar. After her, Scorpius fell through, then Ron, and lastly, Draco. Ron was staying close to Scorpius to observe his behavior, and ever-vigilant to any of the most minor changes in demeanor. After all, that _was _the point of his suffering through a car ride with Draco Malfoy.

As far as he could tell, Scorpius was being completely normal.

He also felt completely normal. He had been worried that he might think more animalistic or cruel thoughts with so many humans around him at once, but he in fact felt no different towards the thousand students than he had in the five previous years. He _did_ notice, however, that everything was a little louder, voices he recognized as being across the station sounding as if they were spoken right in his ear, and smelled a little more pungent to him, perfumes and body-odor all mixing into an undeniably human smell. It was nothing to fret over, he decided bitterly, it was just another taunting reminder that he was no longer completely human.

"Lily!" Rose called across the station to her cousin, whose dark-red head was bobbing out of a group of what looked like other Fourth Years.

"Rosie!" Lily waved, somewhat maniacally.

Rose looked expectantly at her father.

He rolled his eyes as if to say, "Go ahead".

"Bye, Daddy," She chirped, pecking his cheek. Backing up, she smiled at the two Malfoys. "It was nice to meet you, Mr. Malfoy. I'll see you at school, Scorpius." With those two polite comments, she jogged over to her cousin.

"I think you're okay to go now, too, Scorpius," Ron said when his daughter was out of earshot.

"I am? That's it?" He looked surprised at the lack of questioning, scrutinizing, or _anything_ really.

"You seem to be stable, still. Tell me, do you feel the need to bite anyone here right now?" Ron asked, slightly mocking.

"No, not particularly," Scorpius shot the older man a grin.

"Good. Well, that's about it, then." Ron shrugged good-naturedly.

"Are you sure you'll be all right on the tenth?" Draco asked, looking grave.

"Yes, I'll be fine; don't worry about me," He shrugged, understanding instantly what his father's issue with the certain date was.

The older man's face was suddenly conflicted. "Stay safe, then,"

Scorpius nodded. He walked forward, gave his father a one-armed hug, waved and thanked Mr. Weasley, and wound his way through the crowd to board his favorite scarlet steam engine.

There were already most students on the train, running up and down the halls, talking loudly across the compartments, and being all-around playful eleven-through-seventeen-year-olds.

He dodged a bunch of rowdy Second Years in order to get into the Prefects' compartment. Just like the year before, he slid open the door and told the Head Boy and Girl he was there. Once they told him something about a shift that he could hardly hear over a combination of boisterous students and blood rushing in his ears, he nodded and backed out of the wonderfully claustrophobia-inducing space.

He looked for an empty compartment, so he could sit in solitary and read whilst the bubbling electricity hadn't taken over his ability to focus.

It always amused him to walk the length of the steam engine and look at all the different temporary inhabitants. There were First Years who looked like they were about to be sick; there were broody, confrontational Slytherins; there were annoying girls who giggled and sighed as he passed; there was always one compartment jam-packed with the Weasley and Potter clan.

Scorpius swore that one of them (most likely James) must've magically enlarged the space in previous years; there was no way all of them could fit in one, seemingly, so comfortably. At any given time, there were around twelve kids, including, as of late, Al's Slytherin best friend, Beau Zabini, in a six-person-at-most section of the train.

They always seemed to be in near-hysterics when he looked at them. Rose huddled between Albus Severus and Lily Potter on the far side of the room, the girls' faces rivaling their hair in lack of breath, laughing at something Al and Beau were animatedly explaining.

There were a few other Weasleys looking in on the prank, including the infamous prankster Fred and his more timid cousin, Dominique. The youngest of the group, including Louis and Hugo, were looking rather terrified, while the older or less easily amused ones, most pointedly James Potter, were chatting with everyone else comfortably.

Scorpius smiled at their overall-joyful family atmosphere, finding himself stalling, watching the cluster with a feeling of envy.

After half a second longer of watching them, he stalked on, continuing his search for an empty compartment.

* * *

Rose wiped the moisture away from her eyes, her cheeks and stomach sore from laughing so hard at her favorite cousin.

She glanced towards the door of the compartment to see a flash of shiny platinum hair pacing down the hall. If she hadn't already been smiling, she would have smiled even larger.

Seeing him suddenly made her remember something.

"Al, what time is it?" She asked suddenly.

He shook out his watch from underneath the sleeve of his cobalt sweater, pushing it towards her.

She cursed under her breath, and sprung up from underneath a rather startled Lily. "Prefect duty," She cleared up swiftly, and sprinted down the corridor to the Heads' Compartment.

She puffed out a "sorry" for being late, and then went right back out into the hallway, walking tediously slowly, scouting out troublemakers—but conveniently skipping over her family's compartment, where a Silencing Charm was cast to keep their roaring laughter from being heard.

Rose rolled her eyes, thinking of how much trouble they would get in if it weren't for her.

She was the only one who was patrolling, and all of the rowdiness had mostly died down after the first few hours, so it was a generally boring forty-five minutes of constant walking.

Somewhere near the back, she spotted Scorpius. He was sitting alone, a Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook in front of his focused eyes, complete with a slightly furrowed blonde brow.

Rose hated to see people sitting alone on the train when there were so many other people who could keep him company. Smiling a little to herself, she walked more hurriedly back to the Heads' Compartment, where she said she was finished, and then to her family's section.

She reached over their heads to reach her trunk. Snapping the clasps open while it still rested on the overhead rack, she pulled out the first book she found, which happened to be the _Standard Book of Spells_ for her Year.

At Al and Lily's questioning stares, she hastily said something about going somewhere "more quiet" so she could study the text. They rolled their eyes, looking somewhat disappointed, but still let her go peacefully.

She couldn't explain the nervous feeling she had as she hustled to the back of the train; she identified it as the same one she had when she was first walking up to his house that same morning.

Biting her lip, she wasn't sure whether or not to knock on the glass first. Deciding she was over-thinking irrelevant things, she cautiously slid the glass open.

* * *

Scorpius looked up from the words on the page when he heard a sudden noise.

It was Rose Weasley, looking rather uneasy, with a textbook in her left hand, the right one still on the doorframe.

"Hi, Scorpius," She said, avoiding his eyes.

"Hello," He responded politely.

"Are you sitting alone?" She asked.

_Obviously_, he thought, and suppressed a smirk. "Yes," he decided to answer.

"Can I sit here, then? I wanted to read my text," She felt blood rushing up to her cheeks.

"Yeah, it's fine," He shrugged, and shifted in his seat, pulling his legs up on the seat, reclining against the windowpane more comfortably.

"Thanks," She smiled warmly, and took the seat across from him, also resting her legs on the seat, leaning back against the cool window.

Scorpius tried going back to reading, but found that he couldn't. He knew it was mostly because he was at the point where he was too excited about school to concentrate on printed words, but he also knew that this wasn't the entire reason.

He chanced a quick glance at the girl who was now intently reading her own book.

She was very pretty, he wasn't blind enough to ignore that, with short, wavy auburn hair, brown eyes that were more expressive than of a bore, but one with bright yellow and orange mixed in to make an overall nice shade of amber, and clear, light skin dotted with a few light freckles on her nose. She was slim, but not stick-thin like her cousin, Lily, with actual curves that were hard not to observe… in a good way.

Apart from being pretty, she was smart, one of the top in their class, and very nice. Scorpius remembered one incident where, from the opposite end of the hallway, she preformed a Jelly-Legs Jinx on someone who had just jinxed him, and then ran to get a teacher to do a counter-jinx. It was little things like that caused Scorpius to always respect the girl… even if her family could be very annoying sometimes.

Family. Seeing her and her relatives interacting the way they did made him wish he could have brothers and sisters of his own, as well as his own children one day, so they could remember times like the ride to Hogwarts as some of the most fun of their lives…

… then he remembered that he couldn't have a family.

The bloody lycanthropy was ruining him a little more every time he remembered it. He wondered, heavy ice filling the pit of his stomach, why he didn't recall the paragraph from the Defense book earlier: the one that quite plainly stated, "Lycanthropy can be hereditary, so it is ill-advised for werewolves to reproduce."

His jaw clenched as he fought back the sudden itch behind his eyelids. He should've realized this at a more appropriate time, not when he was sitting in the company of a girl he hardly knew.

It wasn't even that big of a deal, just yet another piece of his future that was chiseled away.

He pushed the malevolent thoughts out of his head, and decided instead to distract himself with thoughts of the castle, his home.

He forced himself to focus on the most bland, uninteresting thoughts to block out ones of his affliction. He already had to live with it; he didn't want to have to think about it, too.

Scorpius looked back towards Rose, hoping that she would assist in getting his mind off more unpleasant things…

Usually, it would annoy him to have someone in there with him. Put the fault on his preference to be alone, but even having someone completely silent, but in the same room as him, would usually bite at his nerves until he either left, or asked them to leave.

But with her, he felt content. He rather hastily blamed the lycanthropy.

Scorpius scowled. She didn't help him get his mind off his wolfishness after all. In fact, she made him resent it even more. Bloody Weasley…

_But still_, he forced himself to remember, _school is less than an hour away. Everything will be fine once you get to school. More than fine_. He grinned to himself, foreshadowing he was putting on his school wear feeling more like a jinx than anything else.

_School will be brilliant. _

_

* * *

_**A/N:** So, when I put on my profile (for those who might've seen it) that I lost some of my writing, I was talking about this chapter. About ten pages were already typed up, and I was all hyped and ready to keep writing after my A/S oneshot… only to realize that my flash drive wasn't working. I lost the _entire chapter_, and had to restart. I was rather unhappy about it. (I cried. Ask my brother.)

Professor Scamander? Luna, anyone? I'm so sneaky. :D

Who else can totally picture Draco freaking out if he got in a car?

Exposition… it will be the death of me X(

I love my reviewers. They make me feel so warm and fuzzy. :D

So, in order to make me love _you_ too, PLEASE_PLEASE__**PLEASE**_review! I prefer novels detailing every unimportant, nit-picky thing about this, but a one word "good" or "cute" is enough to get me writing some more!

Never too late to put it on **Story Alert**!

Hogwarts next chapter! And Quidditch! And injuries! Yay!

Talk to you in two weeks!

_KitKat Pyrophobia_


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **Donut own :D

**A/N: **Predominately Rose chapter. You ready for this?? XP

* * *

_"The worst is not, So long as we can say, 'This is the worst.' " ._

King Lear Act IV, Scene I

* * *

The day before was wonderful—a long, relaxing train ride to his favorite place in the world, a cluster of prepubescent children listening intently to his every forewarning just because of the badge on his chest, a huge feast that made him feel warm in more ways than one, his ever-comfortable bed in a familiar dormitory.

However, September second was always preferred to the first.

Call him a nerd, but the first day of class was what excited him most.

With unheard-of energy at the ungodly hour, he bounded out of bed, grabbed his handful of pre-laid-out uniform clothing, and hastily changed behind his modesty screen, carefully avoiding the mirror as he swiftly removed his shirt.

No reminders of his lycanthropy were going to ruin his day.

He poured a Sickle-sized circle of his best hair potion into his palm, rubbed his hands together, and hurriedly ran his hands through his hair. When he decided it had enough hold to stay out of his face, he pulled on his shoes, shrugged his billowy robe over his already triple-layered torso (turtleneck, button-up, sweater-vest, respectively), and nearly sprinted to the door, successfully, though miraculously, not waking any of his dorm-mates.

As usual, he was just about the only person to arrive in the Great Hall promptly at seven-thirty. Headmistress McGonagall was already eyeing him from the teachers' table, most likely for his new addition to the uniform, which was noticeably against the rules.

It looked like the Wolf was unavoidable.

Again, forcing the thoughts out of his head when he didn't want to directly confront them, coming to the conclusion that McGonagall wasn't scolding him so immediately, he piled a generous breakfast on his plate, complete with pancakes, eggs, bacon, hash-browns, and everything of the like; he _was_ a growing boy, after all.

Everything tasted exponentially better on his first day back.

He ate, carefully tip-toeing the fine line between impatience and happiness. The way students began pouring in was just a way to prove how slowly he was eating. Scorpius never bothered taking over an hour to eat back home.

But also as a part of his back-to-school routine, he began to get a prickly feeling on the back of his neck as the number of voices he heard from behind him increased; it didn't help much that they were also noticeably clearer this year.

Feeling jittery, he politely folded his napkin on his plate, watched the entire thing vanish through the table, and stood up from his seat at the end of the table facing the wall.

The Malfoy rushed out of the great double doors, and back to the Ravenclaw dorms. The pompous doorknob was too tired to give him any difficult riddle this early on the first day back.

With only a half-hour left until class began, he deemed it early enough to head down to the dungeons for Potions.

He grabbed his gray canvas messenger bag, the Hogwarts crest proudly exhibited on the front flap, after checking its contents. He was back out of the door room, where a few of the others in his Year were still sleeping, in less than five minutes.

Though he was on the literal opposite side of the castle, he could hear and recognize individual voices from breakfast. Scowling at the fact, he tried his hardest not to bear in mind _why_ his hearing was so sharp now.

The normally-subtle sound of the creaky Potions classroom door opening echoed through the empty hallway, the spacious room across the threshold, and Scorpius's sensitive ears.

Scorpius walked right into the classroom, unabashed. He never minded being the first one in class.

A sagging, wide face poked out of the office door in the front of the class.

"Scorpius Malfoy!" Horace Slughorn beamed, waddling out of the space in the middle of fastening the ever-protesting buttons on his sickly-patterned tweed vest.

"Good morning, Professor Slughorn." He greeted, perfectly polite as usual. He stood in front of a table lined with various cauldrons and flasks, peering interestedly at each. Something in one of them smelled absolutely wonderful.

"My boy! How was your summer vacation?" Slughorn still beamed at the boy he considered one of the greatest Potionmakers he'd ever seen.

"It was good…generally speaking." He added, glancing at the floor briefly, suppressing unwanted thoughts once more.

Slughorn eyed the boy guiltily at the statement.

"How was yours, sir?" Scorpius asked, now gazing into one particular cauldron, where swirling steam was rising from a mother-of-pearl surface.

"Smashing!" The round man chortled at some personal joke.

Scorpius smiled and nodded, just as he learned to years ago.

"Do you think you could name any of these?" The Professor asked eagerly, gesturing to the line of five potions. He'd made it a tradition of showcasing these on the first day of his N.E.W.T. level students.

Scorpius's brow furrowed as he leaned over the first in the line, a clear one that looked rather like water. "Veritaserum," He said after thinking hard for a moment. "A powerful truth potion."

Slughorn nodded enthusiastically, egging the student on.

He moved down the line. The next one was a rather easy guess, by the mud-like texture. "Polyjuice Potion; it allows you to temporarily morph into another person, and tastes different depending on the essence of the person you're changing into."

The old man looked near tears in beaming pride.

"This one is…" He inhaled the wisps of smoke, just to confirm his suspicions. Hogwarts dormitories, fresh air from his balcony, Pumpkin Pasties, and a very clean scent of fresh laundry and vanilla all laced within the scent. "Amortentia." He sniffed again, the potency of the scent nearly burning his nostrils, while at the same time, exciting his senses. "The most powerful love potion ever made. It can't actually create love, however, it can only imitate it."

"Indeed!"

The next one in a craftily-shaped tiny bottle was a no-brainer because of its gold, shimmering color. "Felix Felicis; liquid luck."

As he stepped near the final flask, which was rather large, gaudy, and uncorked, Slughorn's eyes suddenly shot to the ground, and he fiddled with his sleeves.

Scorpius looked at him oddly; the change of attitude was rather abrupt. Gazing into the contents of the container, his heart sank to the ground.

The other man was looking very uneasy.

"Wolfsbane," Scorpius muttered miserably, "relieves the worst symptoms of being a werewolf. It eliminates animalistic tendencies in most drinkers, though some react quite differently to consuming it."

"Yes, of course." Slughorn offered nothing more than that muttered response.

The air was suddenly very thick.

"The full moon is one week from tomorrow," Scorpius began, needing to know their appointments more than wanting to offer conversation.

"So it seems…" The old professor looked rather spacey.

"What time should I be here to take my potion?" He asked, taking the initiative to arrange his plans.

"After dinner tomorrow would be fine, if I don't have any detentions by then," Slughorn seemed nearly afraid to meet his eyes.

The younger man nodded.

The first-class bell chimed, the sudden abruptness of the high-pitched noise, louder than he thought was possible, causing Scorpius's head to feel as if it was splitting in two.

"Hello, Professor Slughorn," Rose Weasley said, pushing the door open to the classroom, and taking the middle seat in the first row.

"Good morning, Miss Weasley." Slughorn's jolly persona instantly reappeared as he greeted his second favorite student.

The younger boy scowled slightly at the fact that he was again reminded of being a werewolf; it was the second time already, and the day had only just started.

Sitting at the desk beside Rose's, Scorpius reemphasized the positive emotions over the negative ones. He was becoming rather good at repressing bad thoughts…

He readied himself for the rest of the day.

* * *

"Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall's voice seemed to penetrate his very skull, where it should have been level-toned in the empty hallway.

"Yes?" He asked, turning around to face the elderly woman.

"You know very well what the dress-code of this school states," She said sternly.

"Yes, ma'am," He sighed; he _really _didn't want to fight with the headmistress so early on the night of the full moon. He was already feeling anxious, afraid he would miss the window of time that allowed him to go from Slughorn's office to the Hospital Wing safely.

"May I ask, then, why you've taken it upon yourself to make a new addition to the uniform?" Her thin white eyebrow rose.

He inwardly groaned, and took a quick look around the corridor, making sure it was devoid of humans, poltergeists, or nosy portraits. Judging it to be safe, he moved his hand to his high collar, and pulled it down to the left side.

McGonagall's hand flew to her mouth. "Oh my," She whispered, beside herself, getting an eyeful of Scorpius's new flaw.

Clenching his jaw, he patted his collar back into place, where it covered his hideous scar. "I don't mean to sound selfish, ma'am, but I don't want to have to explain _that_ to people who ask." He muttered.

"Yes, of course," She said, her face in waning surprise. "Where exactly are you headed?" Her usually-stern expression was all but taken-over by a rather sympathetic one. She already had an idea where he was going.

"Professor Slughorn's office," He grimaced.

She nodded, the sympathy on her face only deepening. "Continue on, then," Her eyes, unseen by Scorpius, who had already continued the other direction, brimmed with tears.

Squeezing his eyes shut miserably, Scorpius pushed open the Potions door, and sauntered in.

"Mr. Malfoy," Slughorn's usually-zealous voice was somber.

"Professor Slughorn," Scorpius nodded.

As awkwardly as the six days before then, the old man delicately handed him a goblet of the liquid.

The blond teen raised the slightly smoking goblet in a mock-toast before tipping the entire contents down his throat.

He screwed up his face, his nose wrinkling. It tasted _disgusting_, quite like spoiled milk infused with pure salt. As much as he tried to swallow after drinking, the taste lingered on his tongue.

"Thank you, Professor," He grumbled, handing the goblet back to the other man.

Slughorn nodded, acknowledging Scorpius's words. "Good luck, m'boy," He murmured, sounding like he shouted to Scorpius, as the boy walked out of the classroom to the Hospital Wing.

"Good evening, Madame Pomfrey," He greeted cordially as he knocked on the doorframe of the woman's office.

"Good evening, Mister Malfoy," She returned the greeting, standing briskly, pushing her long brown hair out of her eyes. She was hardly older than he was, around twenty, when she decided to follow in her grandmother's footsteps and become a Healer at Hogwarts; as a result, she took her job very seriously.

"You're staying in this room, here," The woman walked over towards a plain white door he hadn't seen before at the end of the row of hospital beds.

Scorpius followed her, his heart beginning to race with nerves. Luckily, there was no one in the Hospital Wing to see and/or ask questions.

Muttering an "_Alohamora_", she turned the simple gold doorknob, and stepped in.

Again, he followed her. Inside the door was a miniaturized version of the room he was confined to in St. Mungo's, without all of the signs of brutality. There were vast, white walls and a patchy grass ground. In all, the room was a ten-meter perfect square.

He shoved his hands in his pockets awkwardly, and waited for her to say something. He felt his heart beat even faster.

"Erm, do you need anything?" She asked, sounding just as uncomfortable as he felt.

"No, thank you; I'm fine." He replied, his voice sounding surprisingly clear, despite his dread. The revolting taste of Wolfsbane was ever-lingering in his mouth.

She nodded. "I'll be back in the morning,"

He nodded in acknowledgement, his mouth feeling very dry.

With a final look of pity, she walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

He glanced at his watch. Seven twenty-four. Dread crawled up his limbs like spiders, the first ghost of aching starting in his fingers and climbing upwards.

The blond's thoughts began to race; he knew, somewhere underneath the panic, that he'd taken Wolfsbane perfectly on schedule, and had really nothing to worry about; however, the images of a bloodthirsty, gray wolf bounding through the hallways, pouncing on and biting whoever was near, were replaying over and over in his head. There were so many humans, so many people who he could hurt…

Letting out a shuddering breath, Scorpius crouched down to a sitting position in the furthest corner of the room and buried his head in his hands.

And he waited.

* * *

Rose had grown accustomed to seeing Scorpius every day the first week of school, seeing as how they coincidentally ended up taking all of the same N.E.W.T. level classes: Potions, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Charms. Their elective classes were different, if Scorpius was even taking any, she didn't know, but the four classes were a constant every day.

That's why she specifically noticed when he wasn't in class.

The first day, she didn't think much of it. They hardly talked, though he sat near her in every class. It was a general understanding with the two of them that schoolwork was the reason they were in class; if they weren't serious about school, then they would have taken a free period instead of the tedious classes.

The second day, it confused her. He missed school before, everyone had, but never two days in a row that she recalled. She didn't keep tabs on him or anything, that would be creepy, but she'd always taken notice of him. He was the type of person that was hard to ignore… at least to Rose, he was.

The third day, she started to get worried. Anything that would cause the super-punctual Scorpius Malfoy to miss school for three days could be very serious. It was only the second week of school; he was already missing so much! She wanted to go to the Hospital Wing, to see if he was in there, but how awkward would that be? What would she say? "Hey, I noticed you weren't in class for the past three days, even though we never really talk, and I thought I'd come to see if you were okay."

It was courteous, but also made her seem like a complete stalker. She definitely didn't want that.

So she only sat there, tapping her dry quill on her parchment for three days, glaring at the conspicuously empty seat in proximity to hers.

* * *

Four days. Four torturously _boring_ days were what Scorpius spent in the Hospital Wing after the transformation.

He was sure he'd be able to go back to classes on Monday, but that was only a day away. Madame Pomfrey insisted keeping him there both Sunday and Monday. She brought breakfast, lunch, and dinner to his bed in the Hospital, which reminded the blond horribly of his stay at St. Mungo's.

"It'll be okay to go back to class tomorrow, Madame Pomfrey." He said when she brought him his dinner that Sunday.

She looked at him austerely and placed her hands on her hips, sizing him up.

The lethargic way he stabbed his fork into his chicken breast was enough to make up her mind for her.

"You'll stay here tomorrow,"

He groaned, but didn't argue. He knew that he really _did_ need some rest; his limbs felt heavy, as did his eyelids, and he was asleep in those two days more than he was awake. The simple act of bringing a fork to his mouth made him feel completely exhausted. His head felt heavy, and stuffy, and his vision was blurred around the edges. His ever-present headache pounded even more fiercely in his temples.

So, Monday was completely wasted in between sleeping and eating and wishing he was in class.

"Can I go back to class tomorrow?" He asked his caretaker once again when she brought him dinner.

Again, she studied his movements as he ate. Scorpius seemed to have more energy than the day before, and had been sleeping, but more restlessly so.

"One more day, I think," She concluded on the spot.

Another growl from the Malfoy; she turned on her heel and left him alone.

Tuesday was a complete bore. He spent much more of the day awake; the dark circles under his eyes had lightened slightly, his skin regaining a little more color. He used magic more easily then, entertaining himself with simple Levitation spells and Summoning charms; he shrunk and grew pillows and potion bottles and even his own hand a few times.

More frequently than she would have liked, Madame Pomfrey had to peek out from her office to make sure he hadn't knocked over anything with his recklessly thrown "_Accio_"s.

"Can I go back to class tomorrow?" He asked the same question at the same time.

"I suppose so…" She replied, exasperated.

He grinned from ear to ear, catching her off guard.

"Brilliant," He said, and proceeded to eat his dinner in complete silence.

Absurdly early the next morning, he bade farewell to Madame Pomfrey and headed up to the Prefects' bathroom to take a shower and ready himself for the day.

Again, early, he felt the insanely flippant desire to skip down to the dungeons. Luckily, he had self-control, and walked coolly down the corridors as always, his natural swagger controlling his movements rather than his want to _skip_. There was a fluttery feeling in his chest at the aspect of him, one: not hurting anyone during his transformation, and two: going back to class after three days of absence.

He sat down in his seat in Potions class, beaming at Professor Slughorn as he did so.

Taken slightly aback at the boy's sudden cheerfulness, the old man could only smile back weakly as he continued to write on the blackboard.

The door opened after a few seconds, and Rose stepped in. Noticing the boy, she stopped for a second, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Good morning, Rose," Scorpius greeted.

This only caused her eyes to widen more; muttering a "morning" in response, she hastily sat down at her desk, stealing glances at him every few seconds in confusion.

She seemed very taken aback at his conviviality. Scorpius smiled; he seemed to be having that effect on people today.

When he glanced over towards her halfway through class, she was still studying him peculiarly.

* * *

"Rosie!" An auburn-haired boy called after his cousin, running up to her in the crowded hallway.

"Hey, James," Rose greeted, halting in her steps.

"Hey," He said, slightly breathlessly after the long run in search of the girl. "We need someone to play Chaser this Saturday, can you do it?" Leave it to James to not beat around the bush when it came to Quidditch…

"Saturday?" She bit her lip, trying to remember if there was any homework due that Monday.

"Rose, _please_, we have a whole new team, our Chaser came down with spattergroit, and the first match is in less than a month!" Her usually-goofy cousin looked desperate and serious.

"Oh, okay," She sighed; James had helped her out so many times before, and she figured she could do something for him in return.

His face, a perfect mixture of Ginny and Harry, lit up, and he pulled his cousin in for a trademark James bear-hug.

"Thank you, thank you, _thank_ you!" He cried.

Rose rolled her eyes from where she was awkwardly pulled against James's chest, her books still held against her own chest. "You're welcome; now get to class, okay?"

He grinned mischievously, his namesakes' personality showing through his eyes as he released the smaller girl. "Free period, dear cousin,"

Again, Rose rolled her eyes. Free periods for James never meant lounging in the Gryffindor Common Room, or even lurking in the halls; it meant a trip to Hogsmeade for a quick butterbeer or firewhiskey with a new girl.

"Well, _I_, have Transfiguration, so go to your Hogsmeade date and let me get to class," Though she tried to sound stern, Rose couldn't help the small smile that graced her lips at her cousin's recklessness.

"Goodbye, Rosie!" He called behind him, already running the opposite direction.

"Don't get Fred into any trouble!" She called after him.

He only waved in acknowledgement.

Sighing, though still smiling, Rose made the rest of the trip to her class with no problems.

The stuffy old professor was busy writing on the board, so Rose was able to walk in with no bothers.

The seat beside her assigned one was occupied with a boy whose head was laid on his arms, bright blond, dishevelled hair covering his face.

"Scorpius?" She asked carefully.

The boy lifted his head slightly, revealing an even-paler-than-usual complexion, complete with dark circles under his eyes and the stormy eyes themselves bleary.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine; I think I'm coming down with something," He said, his light lips moving against his arms, muffling his speech.

"I'll take notes for you, if you want to get some rest," She offered, trying to be helpful; in all honesty, he looked awful, like he had a serious case of the flu.

At her words, he straightened in his seat, running a hand through his hair, pushing it back into place. Resting his heavily-congested head on his palm, he said, "I'm okay, Rose, don't worry," while softly smiling.

A blush, for Merlin knows what reason, crept up into her cheeks. "All right," She said, her voice sounding too squeaky for her liking.

Scorpius moved his eyes from her tawny ones to the Professor, who had turned toward the class, ready to lecture.

Rose, however, didn't stop looking at the blond. He was sick again, just like the month before. It had only been around a month and a half of school, and he was ill for the second time. Suddenly wishing they had a closer relationship, so she could comfortably ask him, Rose wondered what was wrong with him. She was, quite genuinely, concerned.

Another glance and subdued smile from the Malfoy caused the colour to deepen in her cheeks, and the redhead snapped her eyes toward the teacher.

She sighed in annoyance at the heat in her face, and instead of focusing on the boy beside her, zoned in to every word coming from their professor's mouth.

* * *

"James, what am I playing again?" Rose asked from the entrance of the locker room.

"Chaser," He responded, straddling his top-of-the-line broomstick he received as a gift from his parents on his seventeenth birthday.

Nodding, she walked cautiously into the foreign Quidditch locker room. James told her that she could use the ill Chaser's robes, so she opened the maroon locker with a simple spell. Luckily enough, the other girl was around the same size she was, so the clothes were only a little snug.

She eerily felt the eyes of someone else on her back while she was maneuvering on the scarlet robes and borrowed dragonhide gloves.

Not knowing what to anticipate, Rose turned towards the other person.

The confrontational expression on the stranger raven-haired Gryffindor really made Rose feel unsettled.

When the slightly-shorter-than-her, stocky girl only stood in the same spot, arms crossed, and right hip jutting out to the side, her entire posture dripping with adolescent attitude, Rose only awkwardly sidestepped out of the dank room, grabbing her borrowed Cleansweep model broom on the way out.

James was already in the middle of the pitch, levitating a few meters off the ground, watching his newly-appointed team mates do a few warm-up rounds. She saw him nod every few seconds, apparently satisfied with the way they were flying.

Rose mounted her broom and kicked off the ground, gripping the cherry handle tightly as she felt the ground disappear beneath her. Though she was experienced on a broom, having been forced to play the game with her sports-crazed cousins at nearly every family gathering ever held, she wasn't as good at the sport as James or Albus.

She steered the broom over to her barking redhead cousin. "James," She called.

He spun around in the air, his boyishly long, auburn hair whipping around his face in the chilly breeze.

"Who is the girl with the black hair?" The other redhead asked as quietly as being in the air would allow.

His face darkened. "Mitchie Coote, our new Beater,"

"What's her deal?"

"She seemed to have some pent-up aggression," Though he shrugged nonchalantly. Something in his voice told Rose that he regretted the decision to put her on his new team.

An ominous feeling bubbled in the pit of Rose's stomach, but she only nodded and flew toward the other pair of scarlet-clad Chasers.

Pleasantries were exchanged, as well as strategies, and they were soon juggling the Quaffle in between them as a warm-up exercise.

"I'm letting out the Bludgers!" James shouted from the grass.

After a choreographed thumbs-up from the rest of his team, the two aggressive spheres were released from their confines; they zoomed around the pitch excitedly.

Dangerously close to the trio, the Beater, Coote, followed them, taking no heed to the fact that her bat nearly hit Rose in the back of the head.

"And the Snitch!" James called.

Another thumbs-up, Rose's a rather uncomfortable one.

"And… go!" The boy called excitedly, mounting his broom and following the tiny golden ball with enthusiasm.

The three spread apart and began passing the red ball amongst themselves, maneuvering themselves strategically to avoid any gaps between their play.

The determined-looking Keeper watched the ball being passed with almost obsessive-compulsive concentration.

The other female Chaser stalled for a moment before throwing the Quaffle toward the middle hoop. The Keeper hit it away by the very tips of his fingers.

"Nice save!" James called, almost giddily, from above them.

"James, Snitch!" Rose called mock-commandingly to her cousin, shielding her eyes to the bright sunlight streaming down.

He stuck his tongue out at her.

She turned back to the red ball that was, again, being thrown around. She reached below her to scoop it up when…

"Rosie, watch out!" James called suddenly, frantically.

Confused and worried at the same time, Rose looked up towards her cousin just in time to see what looked like a solar eclipse, but was really just a Bludger coming straight for her face.

Her heart stopping momentarily, she acted on a gut-reaction and swerved upward to avoid being knocked off her broom.

"What the _hell_?!" She screamed, fuming.

"Coote, what was that?" James angrily asked the girl, whose long black hair was conveniently covering her sadistic smirk.

"Sorry, Captain, I missed," She said, raw innocence suspiciously sounding in her oily voice.

"Listen, she's only a stand-in, don't get her hurt!"

"Right," She said, her slightly smashed-looking face remaining unaffected.

Rose heard James huff from above her and continue his search for the Snitch.

Her heart was still beating more quickly than usual, but she still righted herself in a playing position. Air thrashed around her face, causing her long fringe to fall in front of her eyes.

"Ready?" The more timid male Chaser asked her carefully.

"Yeah, I'm fine," She muttered, her game-face coming back into play.

The other pair glanced at each other wearily, but still passed off the Quaffle.

After a few more trade-offs, Rose was hovering in front of the goalposts. If there was one person on the team, other than James, who had a natural talent at the game, it was the Keeper. He watched her movements carefully, predicting her movements before she even decided on them.

Swerving a little, trying to fake a move, she tossed the ball to the opposite hoop.

And it was passed right back to her.

"Even the Slytherin Keeper could predict _that_ move!" An annoyingly shrill voice called from somewhere to Rose's left.

Gritting her teeth, she said, "You know what, Coote? That's why I'm not on the team."

A snort from the other girl tested Rose's self-control greatly. She looked desperately to the other redhead for some support, only to find that he was on the complete reverse side of the pitch.

She exhaled a deep breath, and released a little tension on the Quaffle that she didn't realize she was about to split in half. Rougher than necessary, she tossed the ball to the female Chaser.

"Look alive, Rosie!" James called teasingly when she sat in the same stationary position.

"Bugger off, James!" She shouted back, and prepared to turn back to the game.

The ball flew from one of the Chasers' hands, and Rose reached out to grab it.

"ROSE!"

"What?" There was no way there could be _another_ Bludger coming toward her…

She looked to her right just a moment too late, and her arm caught the full force of whatever "pent-up aggression" James was talking about from Mitchie Coote.

Inhaling a few colorful curse words, Rose's vision went black for a split second, pain exploding in her right forearm, which let out a sickeningly audible _crack!_

Cradling her obviously-broken arm against her chest, she dropped to the ground with less control than she would have liked.

"Bloody _hell_!" She said sharply, touching her feet on the ground, then immediately collapsing to her knees.

Her cousin touched down right next to her, livid and concerned all at once. "Is it broken?" He asked.

She looked at him with a condescending expression; she knew she was being rude, but she didn't care at the moment… her arm _hurt_!

"Let me see," He said, and gently pushed back the sleeve of her borrowed robes.

"Oh, Merlin," Rose's stomach turned over, and she looked away in serious danger of vomiting.

The bone, pure-white and splintering, had broken through the skin of her forearm, leaving a small pool of blood and gore completely visible.

"Gross," James muttered under his breath.

Rose seconded the notion.

"Right, Hospital Wing for you! Let's go,"

"James, get back to practice, I can go by myself," She stood up gingerly, feeling as if she'd just been Jelly-Legs Jinxed.

"Are you sure? You look green…"

"I'm _fine_," She snapped, hating the way he was babying her.

His face was hurt.

Feeling guilty, the sixteen-year-old backtracked her words. "Thanks James, but I can take myself. Honestly, I'm fine." Her weak smile betrayed her blatant lie, but James still obliged her ego's needs. He mounted his broom again, still looking at her concernedly.

At an encouraging look, he turned his back to her and began to ride away.

"But James?" She called him back.

"Yeah?"

"Kick off Coote," She said through gritted teeth.

He smirked a true Marauder smirk. "Don't worry about _that_ Rosie… she hurt my cousin; she's going to get a hell of a lot more than kicked off the team."

Though her heart swelled with affection, the Prefect in her made her say, "Just don't do anything _too_ bad."

He chucked, somewhat evilly, and patted her comfortingly on the top of the head before zooming away, probably to give Coote an earful.

As badly as she wanted to see the girl's reaction, the spider-web pattern of blackness that was appearing at the edges of her vision, despite the brightness of the midday light, was much more urgent.

Trying to keep her upper body as still as possible, she ambled the (thankfully) relatively short distance to the Hospital Wing. The coolness of the breeze on her skin made her ache almost unnoticeable; the way she rocked when she walked, causing trauma to the wound every time she would step, her robe chafing against the exposed bone, did not.

Awkwardly trying to use her left hand, she turned the handle to the Hospital Wing door, and stepped in quietly.

Madame Pomfrey stuck her head out of her office doorway, stress apparent on her prematurely-lined face.

Rose didn't even have time to walk past the first bed in the line before the lightning-fast woman crossed over and gently held her arm for her.

As the older woman began to pull back her stained crimson sleeve, Rose turned away, not wanting to see the repulsiveness that was a wound on the human body.

"Oh, another break," The brown-haired woman pulled back her hair expertly into a tight bun.

Rose nodded, grimacing.

"What happened?" Madame Pomfrey asked, steering Rose over to the second bed towards the end of the room.

The redhead noticed a sleeping lump on the bed at the very end, but couldn't identify who it was. Sitting down, her legs still hanging off the edge of the makeshift seat, Rose said, "Bludger to the arm,"

"Ooh," The woman said, an empathetic expression appearing on her face.

Rose nodded solemnly.

Madame Pomfrey pulled her long, light wand out of her sleeve, and pointed it at the wound. "You might want to look away for this," She warned.

The younger girl was more than willing to oblige. Scrunching up her entire face, squeezing her eyes shut, preparing for pain, she pointed her nose at the pillow beside her, the opposite of the wand.

A quick tap on her wounded arm caused Rose to inhale sharply, her head feeling very light and heavy at the same time.

The older woman mumbled something the younger one couldn't even distinguish, and Rose's arm felt like it had been emerged in incredibly warm water, soothing the constant ache.

"Ow," She said between her teeth, turning to look back at the Healer.

"I know; I'm sorry," She responded apologetically, re-covering the arm before Rose got a clear look at it.

"What now?" Rose asked.

"It should heal in around half an hour, an hour at the very most; it works faster when you're asleep," She said, her voice very professionally clinical.

Grinning for the first time, Rose swung her legs onto the bed and laid back in one quick movement. She was careful to keep her arm bent across her arm. "Goodnight, then," She said cheekily, closing her eyes.

"I'll wake you later," Madame Pomfrey said, smiling in spite of herself.

Rose nodded, lids still covering tawny eyes.

Rolling her own eyes, Madame Pomfrey walked to her office, shutting the door.

Sighing, ready to have the nap of the century, Rose attempted to relax her body. Thoughts of what type of revenge James was going to have on the awful Coote girl darted through Rose's mind.

Then she remembered that there was someone else in there with her, and she became too nosy for her own good.

Rather than using the oh-so-gratuitous amount of energy to actually sit up to ensure safety of her arm, which still throbbed faintly, she rolled lazily onto her side, facing the other bed, only disturbing her arm slightly.

As it turns out, the other person had also rolled over, facing her bed, but their eyes were still closed, breath still coming in and out deeply.

Almost relieved rather than surprised, Rose saw that it was Scorpius Malfoy.

_Good_, she thought, _the poor boy looked like he was _dying_ yesterday_…

Another damned flush crawled up into the apples of her cheeks, staining them a faint pink. He looked so peaceful, so…innocent. Maybe it was the fact that the easy-to-read gray eyes were covered, but something about the lack of expression on his face was endearing. It was rare times like these that she was able to, without constant worry of being caught ogling, appreciate just how good-looking he was: his silvery-blond hair falling in his face; clear, slightly still afflicted with pallor, features seeming to glow in a way she couldn't place; a smooth, high forehead; well-spaced dark brows leading into a perfectly-centered aristocratic nose; long, dark brown lashes brushing high cheekbones; slightly-parted, full pale pink lips, strong jaw line; lean neck, mostly covered by the crisp white sheet.

_Ugh_, she thought suddenly, breaking out of her ridiculously trancelike state, _I sound like one of the giggling idiots in the lavatory_…

Grimacing at the memory of one particularly obnoxious girl going on a tangent about the exact proportions of his body, she closed her eyes, for whatever reason, refusing to turn over to face anything but him.

Soon, her furrowed brow smoothed out, and unconsciousness overtook her, the pain slowly fading from her arm.

* * *

**A/N:** Exposition is over, aren't you so happy? XP

Not much to say about this one, really…

Oh, and Scorpius _didn't_ smell Rose in the Amortentia. For the record. He smelled… his mom or something. XP

Sigh… I love going on little rants about how perfect Scorpius is… can't help myself :D

And for the record: when I say Scorpius's scar is ugly, hideous, or whatever, I'm only saying that from his general POV… I _personally_ think that scars are superbadass, and it would only make me drool more to see him with one.

What is it with me and sleep? There's always someone going to sleep… maybe it's my subconscious telling me to GO TO BED ONCE IN A WHILE!!! School can suck it; FF is more important. :D

So… PLEASE_PLEASE__**PLEASE **_review! I will send you a miniature Scorpius figurine that you can snuggle with every night. :D

_Story Alert?_

See you in deux weeks XP

_KitKat Pyrophobia _


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form... and I died a little inside when I didn't get my letter when I turned 11...

**A/N:** I'm so so so sorry this is up late!! My internets went out X(

* * *

_"When beggars die there are no comets seen;  
The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes."_

Julius Caesar, Act 2 Scene 2

* * *

The sound of roaring laughter resonated throughout the Great Hall, mingling with, but easily overpowering, gasps of horror and tufts of pity.

Mitchie Coote's eyes widened three times their natural size as she attempted to cover both her elephant-sized ears and her unappealingly-swollen mouth with one suddenly-overlarge hand.

James Potter, tears shamelessly streaming out of his eyes with breathless laughter, admired his spellwork. The wretched girl was suddenly _huge_, blown up like a balloon, her now pan-sized face a lovely shade of rage-and-embarrassment-induced fuchsia.

As if getting kicked off the Quidditch team wasn't punishment enough…

"MR. POTTER!" McGonagall's distant voice turned its trademark tone of fury when she realized exactly whose handiwork this was.

"Gotta go!" James said to the general vicinity of the enthusiastic Gryffindor table, suddenly disappearing under the lunch table, and never actually reappearing.

* * *

When she woke up, Rose felt like someone had taken the bones right out of her arm.

As it turns out, she fell asleep (while staring at Scorpius in a completely NOT creepy way), and after her arm stopped hurting, rolled over on top of it, causing it to become completely numb underneath her.

Groaning, she turned over to her back, the limb feeling like rubber.

"How's the arm?" Madame Pomfrey asked, her "child-is-awake" senses tingling.

"Asleep," Rose mumbled, rubbing her eyes awkwardly with her left hand.

"Mended, though?" The woman asked, delicately taking Rose's forearm in her hands and turning it over, obviously testing for any wince of pain the younger girl would exhibit.

"Seems like it," The redhead still hadn't sat up, or even opened her eyes. She was in a strange semi-conscious limbo state, where she wasn't quite sure where she was; only that sleep was an amazing opportunity at this point. If only the damn Healer would stop prodding her!

"Good, all fixed," Madame Pomfrey concluded, laying Rose's arm back onto her chest.

"Mmkay, goodnight," The redhead rolled over, back onto the still-numb arm, and sighed peacefully.

The older woman sighed, too, though hers was more of an impatient huff. Heels clicking against the tile floor were one of the reasons that Rose didn't immediately fall asleep.

Another cause was hearing someone else gasp in breath, as if choking.

In the odd unconscious state Rose was in, she didn't take immediate notice of this. It eased its way into her stupor, slowly and surely.

There was a tingling sensation in her body that went from the tip of her auburn head to the very ends of her toes, and, to her great dismay, the infatuation of sleep was suddenly diminished.

Furrowing her brow against the light she barely took notice was in the room, she yawned.

The person next to her was now coughing dryly, but uncontrollably.

She opened her eyes slowly, blinking away sleep. Her eyes were met by the sight of Scorpius sitting up beside her, his chest convulsing as he continued to cough, the white infirmary sheet draped over his shoulders like a cape, obscuring his obviously-bare chest.

The first thing the redhead felt was panic. She thought that if he continued to cough like this, he would eventually lose his breath. Her mind went into a sudden frenzy.

"Oh, the cough again?" Madame Pomfrey hustled to his side before Rose even swung her legs off the bed to go get her for help.

Scorpius nodded, his face still screwed up from the obvious pain in his raw-sounding throat, as his breathing became even shallower between coughs.

The older woman quickly Summoned two different flasks, and poured the contents of one in to the other, swirling them for just a moment before leaning Scorpius's tousled head back, and tipping the thin, watery contents of the container down his throat.

He took a deep, shuddering breath that pained Rose even more to hear.

"Great way to wake up, huh?" The thin woman joked, a kindly smile on her face.

He smiled weakly back at her, his breathing hardly affected anymore. "Thank you, Madame Pomfrey,"

The small smile never left her face as she rounded up the flasks. "It's my job, Mr. Malfoy," With that, she began to walk back to her office.

He nodded respectfully, still unaware that Rose was in there.

The redhead decided that there was really no way to make this _not_ awkward.

Here she was, in an odd position, half on the bed and half off, her eyes still puffy from sleep, staring at him. And there _he_ was, breathing heavily, sitting up with a sheet wrapped around his shirtless form, blood still blemished in his cheeks from effort, just noticing that she was, in fact, staring.

_Oh, Merlin…_ She thought.

"Hello," She said, faux-brightly, her own cheeks heating up, the shade of red on her face rivaling her hair.

"Hello," He replied, just as cordial.

A stiflingly awkward moment passed between them.

"What are you in for?" He asked, surprising himself with his confident and casual tone, a small smirk turning up the corner of his mouth.

She pulled up the sleeve of her robe wordlessly, checking to see for herself if there was any lasting sign of the injury. As it turns out, there was a light semi-circle scar on the inside of her right forearm, where the bone broke the skin.

Grinning, she held up her arm to show him her battle scar.

"What happened?" he asked, quite amused.

"Mitchie Coote has a few anger issues, and James decided to put a bat in her hands." Rose said lightly, but grudgingly, still inspecting her scar. She found it to be pretty cool, actually.

He looked at her with an interestedly furrowed brow. "She hit you with a Beater's Bat?"

"No, she hit a Bludger straight at my arm."

An empathetically pained expression crossed his face.

"It was so gross," Rose began excitedly, "the bone popped out and it was all bloody—" Her sentence was ended abruptly as she realized exactly how vulgar and unladylike she was being.

There was another incredibly uncomfortable pause, where Rose fiddled with the edge of the sheet, and Scorpius looked down at his hands.

His breath unexpectedly caught in his throat, and the cough reoccurred.

Thankfully enough for the anxious redhead, it ceased quickly; the blond groaned and laid back onto his magically-enlarged pillow, inconspicuously maneuvering the sheet to cover all the way up to his chin.

"How long have you been sick?" Rose asked in a feeble attempt to make conversation.

"Since around the middle of July," Scorpius asked, in complete, cryptic truth.

The young girl's eyebrows rose slightly. She couldn't imagine how miserable it would be to stay sick for nearly three straight months. "How do you stay at school?" She asked, sympathy evident on her face.

Scorpius knew he had to choose his words carefully, and was very guarded. But, at the same time, it felt very nice to be able to talk about his lycanthropy ("sickness", as it was to Rose) to someone other than his overbearing, overanxious parents.

"I can handle it most days; I hardly notice it most of the time." He shrugged, "It's only certain times that it gets really bad, and I have to spend a few days in here." He gestured lightly towards the immense room around them.

Rose nodded in understanding, still feeling sorry for him. The worst sickness she'd ever had was a minor case of something the Muggles called "Chicken-Pox" when she was seven; she had to drink a sickly-sweet potion twice that day, and then she was cured for good.

"Must be miserable," She mumbled.

His gray eyes flashed with something Rose, for once, didn't recognize. "Sometimes," He replied, his tone light with undertones of something that seemed almost like regret.

"I'm sorry," She didn't know what else to say. The words were sincere though.

"It's not like it's your fault," He shrugged again, and then smiled, "Unless you're the one plaguing me."

Rose smiled weakly. She found it very admirable that he somehow remained the top of their class, Prefect, and maintained such a positive attitude despite struggling with illness. She could hardly imagine how difficult it was to excel in Transfiguration class, with a new spell every lesson that just built on each other… not to mention the essays that were due each class as well…

A thought crossed her attention-deficit mind, and she remembered that she was supposed to be back in the Common Room writing her essay that was due that Monday.

"Did you finish your Transfiguration essay?" She asked, somewhat abruptly to Scorpius.

"No, I haven't started yet." He replied, running a hand through his bright hair, only for it to fall back into his eyes, having not tended to putting product in it. Rose noticed his struggle with a slight blush, trying to fend off thoughts of how good his hair looked like that.

She focused. "Want to write it now? I haven't started either," Rose became excited again at the aspect of having someone at her level of intelligence help her with the tediously difficult schoolwork.

This took Scorpius somewhat aback. He expected, almost looked forward to, spending this day after his transformation in the infirmary, taking turns sleeping and brooding. He didn't count on a forward, nearly irritatingly so, Rose to suggest doing homework. It was all so… _normal_; the day after he changed into something inhuman, something that had the potential to kill, spending his time in the hospital wing finishing _homework_.

He fought a goofy smile that was making its way onto his face. "All right," He concluded, nonchalantly.

She smiled in a way that made his heart give a bizarre jolt. It lit her whole face up, the slightly-tired tawny eyes brightening. "Great!" She said happily, and stood up to move to his bed. "Er," She said mid-step, realizing that the vital necessities for writing an essay were missing. "Is there any parchment? Or quills?"

"Oh," Scorpius seemed to realize their predicament. He grabbed his wand from the bedside table and sat up again. He felt his breath hitch slightly, but breathed deeply to stop the cough from coming back. As annoying as it was, having a cough was much better to Scorpius than being as extremely fatigued as the month before. There was nothing appealing to him about being half-conscious at best.

He looked around briefly, as if expecting the necessary supplies to pop out of nowhere, which, in truth, wasn't such a far-fetched idea. Seeing nothing appear, he got a familiar blank, concentrated stare on his face.

Rose, however, didn't recognize this look, and only became confused and somewhat concerned. "Scorpius…?"

The boy turned toward her with a questioning look, as if nothing out of the ordinary just happened.

Her unsaid question was answered as soon as he turned toward her and two scrolls of parchment, a pair of plain quills, and an inkwell, complete with ink that threatened to splash out, came floating towards them.

"Why can't you just _say_ 'Accio' like the rest of us?" Rose asked, rolling her eyes at his showmanship while simultaneously cursing herself for being so impressed by it.

"Sorry," He said, a sly smirk curving his mouth, "Habit."

The girl only rolled her eyes again, crossing the rest of the distance to his bed.

Alarm suddenly rose in Scorpius's throat as he realized that his scar would be fully exposed to her if he remained shirtless.

Diving in an almost comical manner to the concealed screen behind the bed, he pulled the fresh shirt Madame Pomfrey prepared for him—bless her—over his torso. It wasn't the ideal full-coverage turtleneck, but it was a button-up that he could carefully manipulate the collar of to his advantage.

When he stepped back out from the screen, Rose was sitting against his pillow in all of her auburn-haired, pale-skinned glory, her knees, of which the sheet was now draped over, drawn up to her chest, expertly levitating the inkwell to a height she could easily access.

Another convivial smile from her caused another odd squeeze in his chest. He, somewhat shaky in spite of himself, walked over to his bed and sat down next to her, close enough so their shoulders and hips were touching. He cursed the thin width of the bed. He, too, drew his knees up to form a sort of easel for his parchment.

Scorpius picked up his wand again, and wordlessly Summoned the quill that was on the bedside table, now to Rose's left, where he couldn't reach it. It zoomed around her and straight into his hand.

Once again, Rose felt the undying need to roll her eyes. In an almost scolding tone, she said, "I could've just handed it to you, you know."

Another cocky sort of leer pulled at his lips. "Magic is much more fun, though." He said, twirling his wand across the tops of his fingers before setting it down beside him on the now-wrinkled white sheet.

"Showoff," She grumbled, dipping the nib of the quill in the ink and penning her name at the top of the page.

Scorpius took note of the fact that she was left-handed, and wrote in a girlish, loopy cursive script.

Mentally shaking his head vigorously, feeling suddenly obsessive, he dipped his quill in ink and wrote his name and the date in the top-right corner of the pale yellow paper. He smiled slightly, noting the difference in their penmanship. Though both cursive, the two styles of writing differed greatly; hers a clearly-legible, upright type with thin, delicate lines; his being a near scrawl of connecting letters, all rather flat and horizontally-oriented.

He was being weird again. Tapping his quill on the page to get some sense of reality back into himself, he glanced over to Rose, who was looking at the page as if it'd just insulted her.

"So what do we have to write?" Rose asked, finally, after almost a straight minute of staring down at the parchment, idly twirling her quill in two fingers.

"How to use the spell, what it does, advantages and disadvantages… that type of thing," Scorpius replied, reciting the information the professor gave them verbatim.

Rose groaned. She loved school, she honestly did, but there were just some aspects of it that were undeniably _boring_.

Scorpius smiled at her protest, writing the first line of his essay.

She looked over at the blond, while he was still smiling, and instantly decided that he looked much better when he was smiling than when he was sleeping: his full, but not femininely so, lips parted over bright white teeth, his whole face lighting up.

The redhead was forced, against her will, to smile, as an invisible force tugged the corners of her lips upwards. Grudgingly, she wrote the first line of her essay as well.

Every few minutes, in between mundane questions, Rose would steal a glance at Scorpius. He looked so serious, staring at the parchment as if it held vital importance; his brow furrowed, his lips pursed, his eyes carefully followed the quill that skated its way across the piece of parchment.

He was nice to look at, Rose convinced herself; that was the only reason she kept watching him.

Little did she know, Scorpius was doing the exact same thing she was. Every time he thought it was safe, he would give a fleeting look at her silhouette. Her smoothly sloping forehead into a straight, upturned nose gave an overall nice appearance. Her cheeks were the same color as the flower for which she was named, and just as smooth-looking. Her face was open as always, her eyes ever-sparkling with ever present excitement. The very edges of her pinkish lips were turned upward, causing tiny dimples to appear underneath the apples of her cheeks. Seeing her so cheerful all the time gave him the ridiculous urge to smile.

He wondered what she would do if she knew he was a monster… would she still be sitting next to him so casually, writing an essay and asking questions over the material every few minutes? He wondered if she would look so happy when she was around him, or if she would get around him at all…

It was amazing to Scorpius, by the time he added the final period to his paper, that he'd gotten anything done with his sudden lack-of-focusing.

The same went for Rose, who dawdled so badly that she didn't think she was ever going to finish, but somehow did.

"Brilliant," She grinned, holding up the now-dry parchment for admiration.

He looked at her paper, all penned in the unwavering style of writing, and then at her.

She was suddenly looking rather awkward; she didn't know whether to stay or to leave. "Erm," She began, the funny noise not helping the awkwardness she felt. "Thanks for the help on the essay,"

He nodded genially, pulling up the edges of his collar self-consciously.

The redhead inspected her arm, mostly for show, since she knew that it was already healed. When she was sure that he got the message, she smiled down at her new scar, and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

She cleared her throat, "I'll see you in class on Monday?" She asked, switching her weight from foot to foot, her hands clasped behind her back.

"Yeah," He replied simply, nodding again.

Though uncomfortable, she smiled a smile that was brighter than a hundred _lumos_ spells. "Bye," She said, and turned on her heel, walking bouncily out of the infirmary.

Scorpius watched her all the way out the door, but then resolved to look down at his hands for a while, his mind going haywire and completely blank all at once.

Sighing heavily, he moved his body to a horizontal position on the bed, setting the ink, parchment, and quills down on his bedside table. He needed some rest if he was going to go back to class on Monday.

He closed his eyes, and time took him less than half a minute to be completely out.

* * *

"I'm completely in love with him,"

Rose rolled her eyes at her endearingly naïve cousin, who was standing at the foot of Rose's bed, declaring her undying love for a boy she'd only began dating two weeks prior. "Sure you are, Lily," She mumbled the reply.

"_No_, I'm serious this time. More serious than I've ever been about anyone before...ever." She said, tossing her dark red hair over her shoulder, looking Rose intently in the eyes, as if insisting the teleportation of understanding the magnitude of the situation.

"Sure you are, Lily," Rose repeated, closing her eyes, leaning her head back onto the edge of her headboard. She loved her cousin, but she was such a drama queen sometimes… it was a horrible idea for Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny to let her date for the first time in Third Year… since then, the boy-crazy Fourth Year hadn't stopped.

"Have you ever been in love, Rosie?" Lily asked dreamily, lying down next to where Rose was sitting, with her knees habitually pulled to her chest.

"Nope." Rose answered shortly, popping the "p" sound on the word for her own amusement.

"It's wonderful." Lily's tone turned almost ethereal.

"I'm sure it is." Rose rolled her eyes, and adjusted the neckline of her pajama shirt. This movement reminded her of the way that Scorpius had continuously adjusted his collar the day before in the hospital wing.

The younger girl sighed contently, closing her eyes.

"I have a question," The older redhead stated to the younger one.

"Hmm?" Lily mumbled, opening her bright blue eyes to look up at her cousin.

"Is it just me, or does Scorpius Malfoy seem different this year?"

"What makes you wonder about Scorpius Malfoy, huh?" Lily's almost-bored tone immediately became more excited, and she swiftly sat up, shoulder-to-shoulder with her cousin.

Rose sighed in agitation at her cousin's Hopeless Romanticism. "I'm just _wondering_, Lily, don't take it the wrong way."

"He's really cute, actually, so I wouldn't blame you if you fancied him," The long-haired Fourth Year tapped her chin thoughtfully.

"I _don't_ fancy him, I just noticed he was acting a little differently this year… you know, even _more_ distant and tired and everything," She had trouble putting together the wording for what he was like this year as opposed to any before.

"He's always been a little odd," Lily began uncertainly.

"Well, of course he's always been odd, but, I don't know, he just seems… different." Again, the older girl struggled to piece together complete thoughts concerning the boy. Maybe it was just her imagination, but something about him seemed off since the time she went to Malfoy Manor the day the train left.

Lily shrugged. "You notice him more than the rest of us do,"

At this, Rose's face heated. "You make me sound fanatical." She protested.

"Not purposely. You've always had a certain interest in him, though; you can't even deny that." Again, the younger girl prodded for more than was actuality.

Trying to seem as offhand as possible, Rose shrugged. "He's an interesting person; strange and all that."

Lily seemed disappointed that there was no sudden realization from Rose that she was, in fact, in deep, passionate love with Scorpius Malfoy, and she needed her cousin's help to make him fall in love with her. "I suppose," She said, her bottom lip sticking out slightly.

Rose laughed; though it felt a little forced, her throat feeling dry, her cousin didn't notice. She felt the dire need to change the subject from the boy. What was the one thing Lily would talk about at the drop of a hat?

"So, Lily, how was your date Friday night?"

"Oh Merlin, Rosie, it was amazing!" Lily's eyes lit back up, as memories played obviously behind her eyes, which went very wistful. "He's so romantic! First, he took me up to the Astronomy Tower—"

Rose perfected the art of nodding and "ooh"ing at the correct moments with her cousin the year prior, so it was a discipline in which she was well-rehearsed.

Instead of listening to the hyperbolized rendition of two days prior, Rose tried to remember if she had any homework that needed doing. She finished her Transfiguration and Potions essays… there was nothing due in Charms… Arithmancy and Astronomy were finished as well… but she still needed to read the chapter about Magical Creatures in her Defense text before they started the unit the next class.

She got back to the present as she prepared to hop off the bed and grab her book.

"—and then he kissed me under the full moon, and it was so sweet, and, Rosie, I'm so in love with him!"

The last bits of that sentence were lost as Rose's mind zoned in on something of great interest. "The full moon was on Friday?" She asked, hearing herself as if through water.

"Yes, it was so bright and—"

….

No. There was absolutely no way. It was probably just her overactive imagination acting again. She had just been thinking of Scorpius and Magical Creatures and that's the _only_ reason the two were linked at all in her mind.

It was only a coincidence that he was sick during the full moon; people can't really control when they get sick, can they? He said he'd been ill since the summer… it made sense that he would have to spend a few days in the infirmary every once in a while, right?

… But right when there was a full moon?

No. it was a completely preposterous idea. There was just _no way_ he could _possibly_ be…

"That sounds amazing, Lily," She said distantly.

"I know, he's so—"

"Hey, I have to read an entire chapter of my Defense text before tomorrow, so would you mind…?" She trailed off, letting the invitation to leave hang in the air.

Lily looked disappointed, but still like she was off in her own little world. "Oh, all right," She replied, and stepped off the bed.

Rose barely heard the click of the door closing before she dove underneath her bed for her bag. Wrenching the proper book out of the canvas sack, she flipped impatiently to the chapter concerning the magical malady, and began to read and absorb every word as quickly as her mind would allow.

"… _on the night of the full moon, the persons affected will transform_…"

"… _known only to be transferred by saliva-blood contact_…"

"… _the transformation is said to be extremely painful_…"

"… _the persons' health will deteriorate slightly for a week before the full moon_… _fatigue and severe coughing are two common symptoms_… _health will not return fully until three to five days after the full moon_…"

"… _werewolf bite scars are extremely visible, and never fade completely_…"

"… _extremely dangerous around transformations_…"

"… _Wolfsbane Potion can alleviate the worst symptoms_…"

"… _those afflicted with lycanthropy usually don't remain around humans for an extended amount of time_…"

Rose felt her eyes getting hot as she read. She couldn't help but notice, in a terrible way, that every line recalled a memory of something concerning Scorpius… everything fit.

It was still a wild theory, backed by evidence that was circumstantial at best, but it was something that the inquisitive sixteen-year-old wanted to confirm or deny for certain.

She didn't _want_ to think that he was a werewolf; they were ill-treated and often feared without solid reason in the wizarding world. It was difficult for them to function in everyday society with people knowing of what they were. It would be terrible for him to actually _be_ one…

Rose felt a weight accumulating into her chest, threatening to suffocate her. She felt guilty. Guilty that she was mentally accusing him of this; guilty that he had to go through this; guilty that she couldn't do anything to help him; guilty that she didn't notice sooner.

"_How long have you been sick?" _

"_Since around the middle of July," _

"_How do you stay at school?" _

"_I can handle it most days; I hardly notice it most of the time. It's only certain times that it gets really bad, and I have to spend a few days in here."_

"Since around the middle of July." If her suspicions were correct, Scorpius had only been a werewolf for a short time. She counted the months backward to the one where he'd presumably been bitten.

Four. Four different full moons. Subtracting the first one, as the textbook said that werewolves don't transform on the same night they're bitten, it left three. Three separate months that he had to go through the torture of contorting from one specimen to a different one. Three months that he'd spent a week before and a week after being ill. Three months where he had to hide this fact from everyone.

The day of the train suddenly came to mind, as did her father's voice casually mentioning something over dinner.

"_Yeah, 'Mione, they changed the policy again. Werewolves don't have to be monitored for a full month anymore, just the first full moon and the first time they go into a public place that has a ton of people. And you have to certify them as 'Safe' before they can be in any place for a long time if they don't want to get in trouble_."

So, what they were doing at Malfoy Manor earlier that year had nothing to do with Malfoy Senior, but Scorpius. Her father was watching him, to make sure that he didn't get vicious around people.

In spite of the horrible realization of everything, she smiled. He must be deemed Safe in able to be at Hogwarts. He was fine; he wasn't going to hurt anyone. There was no reason at all for anyone to be scared of him.

The funny thing was that it never even occurred to Rose to be afraid.

She'd been to his house; she rode in the same tiny car as him to King's Cross; she sat in the same compartment as him; she sat next to him in nearly every class they had; she spent half the day with him in the Hospital Wing, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder to him; none of this provoked any different sort of reaction from him in comparison to any other normal person. In fact, he was as perfectly cordial to her as always, friendly even, as they sat together in the Hospital like they'd been friends for years.

He was, in more than the official way, safe.

He was also suffering.

It wasn't like he had tons of friends to keep the secret from, or even any teachers he was extremely close to, but it wasn't exactly difficult to piece together the facts in a way that drew to a conclusion. What if someone found out who used the fact against him? He was already bullied into submission as a child, forced into detachment as a teenager. It would literally break Rose's heart if he was blackmailed into something now.

Something about the thought of her knowing something that, hopefully, no one else knew yet made her heart swell. That meant that she alone could help him, and choose not to hurt him any further. She could become closer to him like she'd always wanted to, aiding him through tough spots, supplying him moral support, and even material things, like homework when he missed class.

The thought brought a small smile back to her face, contrasting from the look of intense sympathy and almost horror that was on there previously.

There was only one way to really prove her theory: she would go to the Hospital Wing the next month the day after the full moon to see if he was in there. If he wasn't, and a huge part of her hoped he wouldn't be, it would be decided that her suspicions were completely wrong. If he was, Merlin forbid, she would be right. Scorpius would definitely be a werewolf.

She suddenly noticed that her head was pounding when she gave her mind a moment to rest. Having a realization hit you like a ton of bricks, she decided, was _not_ fun.

She scrunched her nose and squeezed her eyes against the pain, shutting off the light and pulling the curtain to her bed. It was still very early that Sunday night; most of the girls in her Year weren't even back in the dorms yet. Despite this, she crawled under her sheet and literally _forced _her mind to stay blank until she drifted into a restless sleep.

* * *

It was a very odd month in between one full moon and the next.

Rose found herself watching Scorpius even more than usual, looking for any signs of changing behavior, even though she knew that there would be none.

The only difference between how he was before that summer was the fact that he wore turtlenecks or high-necked shirts every day now. The only plausible explanation she came up with for that fact was that his bite scar was underneath. She felt almost eager, which, in turn made her feel bad, to see it if it really existed underneath the fabric.

He was still distant, still aloof, and still pleasant when he needed to be. He still volunteered answers in class, still did his schoolwork expertly, still showed off by doing wordless incantations whenever she was around.

Rose began to think that maybe it _was_ just her imagination that linked together all of the circumstances to the dismal conclusion.

She didn't change her mind, though, about going to the hospital on the next full moon.

She knew full well that full moons were a month apart each, but that didn't stop her from peeking out the window every night to see how close it was. She found herself cursing the fact that she didn't retain any information about the lunar cycle she learned in First Year.

* * *

Heart beating faster than usual, she pulled the curtain back from the large dorm room window. The grounds below were serene as always, the November breeze swaying the now-bare treetops. The grass was well-kept as always, retaining its healthy nature even in the chillier months.

The lake had a glassy surface, only slight waves dancing across every few seconds. The banks were alive with vegetation, bordering it. The water beautifully reflected a perfectly round, almost blindingly bright full moon.

Rose's heart raced, as her thoughts went down to the infirmary. She wondered if he transformed in there, or if he was sent out of the castle. Remus Lupin, she knew, from what her parents told her, always went down to the Whomping Willow to a secret passageway to the Shrieking Shack. Was he in the dilapidated old house?

Did he take the Wolfsbane Potion on time? (Did he take it at all?)

Did he get wherever he was going safely?

Was he in pain?

Her chest felt as if it was being compressed again, as the best and worst case scenarios played in her mind, materializing her worst fears.

And, she reminded herself, there was always the possibility that he was tucked away in his Ravenclaw bed, sleeping soundly, void of any magical affliction.

She bit her lip in worry, her knees suddenly weakening. Gravity and whatever other force acted on the body pulled her down to the windowsill, where she ended up sitting in anxiety for the rest of the night, chewing her lip and darting her eyes across the grounds.

She couldn't have slept if she wanted to.

* * *

The sun rising over the horizon in a burst of pinks and oranges was the only thing that finally assuaged Rose's nausea-inducing worries. Though she didn't consider herself an expert in the subject of lycanthropes, she found it logical that they would change back into a human form before or at sunrise.

Hoisting herself up from her sitting position, in which she remained for all of the night, she stretched to regain some feeling in her numb feet and generally unresponsive limbs.

Hastily, she shrugged off her old shirt and pulled a fresh one over her head; she did the same with her uniform skirt: pulled it off, and replaced it with the same jeans she wore the day she came to school.

It was a Wednesday, and she knew she would have to eventually change into a school uniform, but she didn't have the time or the energy to do that. Staying up, watching the moon move across the sky for over twelve hours caused a certain, unmistakably familiar, fatigue she'd only ever experienced staying up to study.

She ran her fingers quickly through her wavy hair, which she was sure wouldn't look any different from when she sat down a few hours after sunset the night before. Feeling the weariness hit her all at once, she wiped her face with her hands in an attempt to somehow wake up more.

Groaning deep in her throat, she stretched one more time before quietly leaving the room, heading down to the hospital wing.

The course seemed to take ten times longer than usual, time feeling like it was moving more slowly than ever. She felt fidgety, and kept tweaking the sleeves of her shirt and fitting her hands in her pockets and taking them out repeatedly. Her skin felt sensitive to the cold, and, as she ventured deeper into the castle, she regretted not wearing a jumper of some sort. On the rare occasion that she stood still for more than a few seconds, her arms and hands would begin shaking violently.

Her heart, filled with dread, felt heavy, and beat more quickly than usual. It was an overall unpleasant, uncomfortable walk.

She was the only one in the halls, seeing as how it was the literal crack of dawn on a school day. Her footsteps lightly echoed off the stone walls. That, and the omnipresent hooting of owls all around the castle, was the only sound at all.

Despite the "long" journey across the building, the Hospital Wing door happened upon Rose much too soon.

She halted in front of it, taking a few deep breaths. Blood suddenly rushed in her ears, and there was a lump in her throat of which she couldn't place the origin. She almost felt like she was going to be sick…

With a vigorously trembling hand, she reached out, and pushed the cold stone barrier forward.

Her hair stood on end as she scanned the vast room. It was darker in there than in the halls, and her eyes had to adjust; they did too quickly for her liking.

She wasn't sure whether to walk down the line of beds, or to stay at the door. She made a rather swift decision to stay in place when she realized that he legs were suddenly made of jelly.

So, she took great care to check every single bed for a body. Her heart was becoming lighter and lighter as she didn't see anyone in the room besides her.

And then a flash of bright white directed her attention to where it logically should have been in the first place.

At the bed at the very end of the room, in the darkest, most remote corner, the same place she'd spent half her day a month earlier, was a great lump in the sheets.

One with unambiguously recognizable bright white-blond hair.

Her breath caught in her throat. Under any other circumstances, she would've walked over and investigated further, to confirm every suspicion she had. But this time, she didn't need to. That precise shade of hair belonged to one sole person at Hogwarts.

Warmth arose behind her eyes for a reason she couldn't quite place. She could only stand there, staring at the head that was facing the opposite direction. The horrible confirmation hit her.

It was official, then.

Scorpius Malfoy was a werewolf.

* * *

**A/N: **_Oh snap! _Haha :D

So, me and HC95 (now technically Idiosyncrasy) were collaborating the other day, outlining her BA story, and I realized that this story is actually pretty lighthearted, considering just how dark it _could_ be… thank me for that. XP

When I was writing the Rose/Lily scene, the entire time I was imagining that one scene between Sam and her sister in "Sixteen Candles"… haha :D

Anyone else notice that my A/Ns seem to get shorter every chapter?

**Story Alert?**

PLEASE_PLEASE**PLEASE**_ review!

I less than three you all!

_KitKat Pyrophobia_


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **_FAN_fiction people! _FAN_fiction! … haha, it should be fanGIRLfiction. Face it, we're all girls here. XP

**A/N:** Half the length of my regular ones, but posted much earlier... because I'm impatient. :D

* * *

_"In time we hate that which we often fear."_

Antony and Cleopatra Act 1, Scene 3

* * *

It is two completely different things when you _think_ something, and when you _know_ something.

A little over a week into October, and before that, Rose _thought_ Scorpius was human. A day after that, she _thought_ he was a werewolf. A week into November, she _knew _he was one.

It was dumb, really, the way the redhead watched him more intently than usual, as if expecting a change in behavior. If he hadn't changed drastically from one year to the next, why would he change just because she learned his secret twenty days before? It was a ridiculous concept, seeing as how he didn't even _know_ she knew.

She wanted to tell him, though. She wanted to let him know he wasn't alone in this. She cared for him; she wanted to help him.

There was ample opportunity in the past two-and-a-half weeks, with her sitting near him in every class, Prefect duty together, and things of the like, but Rose still didn't tell him. Something about the timing was always off. There were always too many people around them. The words she'd rehearsed in her mind so many times would die halfway up her throat. She either didn't have the heart or the guts to tell him.

For a Gryffindor, Rose was really a coward.

She would wake up nearly every morning with the same enthusiastic motivation and tell herself, _Today's the day!_

She would walk down to Potions class every morning, catch sight of his bored face, and abandon the idea completely.

As Rose's eyes cracked open that Tuesday morning, her heart began to feel lighter.

She hopped out of bed and changed her clothes with an energy that bordered on being spastic. Thankfully, she showered the night before, and her hair didn't look different from any other given day. Not that any of that really mattered. It was her voice that needed the confidence-booster.

Honestly, the girl should've known she was setting herself up for failure as she briskly walked down to the dungeons. Pausing for a moment just to calm down her already-overworking brain, she delicately pushed open the cold, stone door.

Her shining eyes immediately trained to the spot where she knew he was going to be sitting; he sat in the same place every single day.

Without focusing completely on him, only registering the fact that he was, indeed, sitting there, Rose walked purposefully to her seat right beside his.

They were the only ones in class, as always. Even Professor Slughorn was in his locked office, whistling a joyful tune while probably doing something exciting like… grading papers or something.

Rose's determination was unwavering. She set her books down and stepped carefully into her seat.

Heart pounding, she swivelled in her chair to face him. Her mouth opened to _finally_ tell him…

… And it closed again, her stomach dropping.

He was staring straight ahead, his head resting on the palm of his hand. His eyes were unfocused, and hard-looking, like a cold slate chalkboard.

Something about the intensity of his stare not only stopped the words coming out of her mouth, but the thoughts in her head as well, for a moment.

Coherence reconstituted itself in her mind, but she could still only manage single syllables. "Hey," She said, more shakily than she would have liked.

A light flickered behind his eyes, and he angled his head slightly towards her, silver eyes meeting tawny ones.

"Hey," He replied just as casually.

Rose gave a weak smile; all of the energy she had earlier, barely minutes before actually, was suddenly drained. It was just another misstep. There would always be the next day…

But she felt an odd feeling that he was going to find out that day…

* * *

Rose was completely exhausted by the time Defense Against the Dark Arts rolled around. Prefect duty had been murder all week; the other Sixth Year Prefect was sick with some kind of common cold, leaving all of the patrol responsibilities to her alone. In the past three days, she'd gotten a six total hours of sleep. The initial few hours of unnatural energy she got every day had worn off, leaving her drained and on the verge of sleep.

She staggered into the half-full classroom, and nearly collapsed into her seat, which was, luckily, near the back entrance. She spotted Scorpius in his same desk as always, one seat in front and two to the right of hers.

Her head fell forward, feeling very heavy. Fortunately, her arms were already in front of her on the desk, so it landed on something soft, rather than the cold, solid granite tabletop. Not that any of that even mattered.

The dim lighting of the room did nothing to help her dozing off. The chatting of her fellow Sixth Years was sounding very subdued as consciousness slipped from her grasp.

A feeling of floating came over her, and her heavy head became lighter. A new world was starting to materialize around her. Colors were now brighter in the gloomy Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom; Scorpius was sitting right beside her instead of a few seats away.

Everything was going as usual; she wasn't tired anymore, and was sitting straight up, waiting for the lesson to begin.

Then suddenly, the scenery around her changed. The people indolently chatting thinned into nothingness, though the same classroom remained around her, and Scorpius still sat next to her. The oddly bright light in the room abruptly diminished, like a breeze blowing out a flickering candle.

Confused, Rose looked around her. Above the pair, the ceiling disappeared, leaving the sight of the inky night sky, speckled with stars and dusted over with clouds.

She looked towards Scorpius in a slight panic, only to see him mirroring her expression on his face.

Now feeling desperate to know the reason everything was happening, and exactly what _was _happening, she looked back in the sky to see two clumps of clouds parting.

She should have seen this coming; behind the desaturated clouds was a bright silver full moon, staring at the pair blaringly.

Jaw dropping in fear, her heart pounding dangerously against her ribs, she began to turn her head toward Scorpius…

"Miss Weasley!"

She awoke with a jolt. Her senses were rapidly, unpleasantly, alive, taking in her physical surroundings. The feeling as if she was beating her head repeatedly against the wall was making itself apparent.

She quickly glanced at Scorpius, her red hair whipping around her face.

'_Still human'_, she thought with a sigh of relief, '_good_.' She hardly noticed the odd look he was giving her, or that his face was paper-white.

Her head then angled to the front of the room, where Professor Smith stood, his arms crossed over his chest, his lips pursed.

"There will be plenty of time to sleep _after_ my class," He said, acid dripping from his voice. He always held a certain dislike for the girl. To him, she was too intelligent and wholesome for her own good…

"Sorry, Professor," Rose said, staring straight, unwavering, at the stocky, full-bearded man.

His glare lingered momentarily just to see if Rose would look away; she didn't.

Almost looking defeated, he turned back to the blackboard, which Rose hadn't read yet.

Her breath caught in her throat.

_Werewolves… Beast or Being?_

Trying not to make the issue so obvious, she looked over at Scorpius. Other than the fact that his face was paler than normal, which probably only Rose noticed, and his fist that was clenched into a tight ball underneath his desk, he looked perfectly casual, with one arm folded on his desk, his head facing forward, intent on the Professor.

Her jaw clenched, and all lethargy she felt overcome by nerves.

"Werewolves," Professor Smith began, pacing in front of the blackboard. Scorpius tensed at the word. "Lycanthropes," He paused for dramatic effect, before almost spitting, "Monsters."

There was a collective murmur around the room. Werewolves were always exciting to learn about. Little did they know, one of them was in their midst, masking his extreme anxiety expertly.

"Werewolves are despised all over both the Muggle and Wizarding Worlds—"

"But, how can you hate someone for something they can't help?" Rose piped up, raising her hand, but not waiting on the man to call on her; it wasn't like he did anyway.

"They can hurt you; they're dangerous." He replied lazily, trying his best to pretend that she didn't exist.

"Then are you sure it isn't just fear?" She countered, her eyes hard.

"It's hate, Miss Weasley." He rolled his own eyes dramatically enough for everyone to see.

"There are tons of things that can potentially hurt you without the necessary precautions." Rose began. She was going to have her point in the air, no matter what the man said. "You can fall off a broom, or get hit by a Bludger in Quidditch, for example, but people still love it. Lycanthropes are perfectly safe most of the time, but people don't realize it; it's blatant fear, I think, Professor, not hate."

"Your opinion is irrelevant." He said, his voice freezing. "And five points from Gryffindor for speaking out of turn."

Rose sat back in her chair, her arms crossed, twirling her quill in her hand.

He began the lesson again. "As you know, there is only one way they are created: a bite from another werewolf. That person will, from then on, be infected with lycanthropy, turning him into a beast."

The way he was speaking about the beings simply _revolted_ Rose. He made them sound like they weren't people every day of the month except for one. Tears burned behind her eyes, and she glanced at Scorpius again. He still appeared normal.

"Then, the new werewolf will bite a human, thus creating a chain of the monsters being born."

Her teeth were clenched so tightly that they ached… and it was only around two minutes into the lesson.

"There—why aren't you writing this down, Miss Williams?—is no cure for werewolves, but effects of it are lessened by a certain potion. Does anyone know which potion that is?" He looked around the room, and nodded at one of the many raised hands, belonging to an innocent-enough girl in the front row.

"Wolfsbane?"

"Right, five points to Ravenclaw." He paused, and stood behind a podium, straightening a stack of parchment. "But what exactly does the Wolfsbane Potion _do_? Miss Weasley?" He asked, even though Rose didn't raise her hand.

"It lessens the effects of aggression in werewolves, and allows them to keep their mind when they transform, which renders them harmless." Her tone was razor-sharp, earning her a few confused, and slightly alarmed, glances from classmates.

He nodded, but, as always, didn't reward her House with any points. "But, please disregard the fraction that Miss Weasley added about them being 'harmless'." He shot a look at her, which she returned with the most terrifying expression he'd ever seen from her.

It took a moment for him to regroup from a near-death-by-stare. "Werewolves, and it doesn't matter if they've taken Wolfsbane or not, are _never_ harmless. Remember that. Write it down." He gestured with his stout hand to their notebooks.

Rose blatantly refused to even open hers, instead using her readied quill for something to bite to prevent her from yelling at the man.

He waited for a moment for the sound of scratching quills to halt. "They often live in the wild, or in solitary, which leaves them no opportunity to take Wolfsbane Potion at all." He looked pointedly around the room, as if trying to disprove what Rose said.

Her leg was bouncing as her anger continued to rise. She chanced another look at Scorpius, to see him now with both hands balled into fists in his lap.

"The most infamous werewolf is Fenrir Greyback." Smith began again.

Scorpius's Adam's-apple bobbed, as he tried to regain some moisture in his desert-dry throat.

"He considered it his duty to kill or infect as many people as possible with lycanthropy before his capture and death only a few months ago."

Thinking of the man made Rose's heart race in rage. She hoped Smith would get off the subject before she started screaming…

"This only goes to show… werewolves are all dreadful. Write that down."

At this, the blond's head dropped down so he was looking at his hands, which were still clenched.

This was too much for Rose. "What about Remus Lupin?" She said in the middle of quills scratching, causing many surprised faces to turn in her direction. She, however, focused intently, defiantly, on the bespectacled man in the front of the class, anger finally bubbling over. She was normally never this vocal in any class.

"Who?" He asked, obviously angry that she interrupted his tyrannical mockery of teaching.

"Remus Lupin? The man on the monument out there," She trust her pointing hand out the window toward the grounds, "for being a _war hero_. Are you trying to say that _he_ was bad?" She clamped her jaw shut, not allowing any more words to come out for fear of saying something she regretted.

The man only looked at her in something akin to festering hatred. Their eyes locked in a rebellious staring match for a few moments before he looked away, choosing purposely to completely ignore her question.

"Another thing about werewolves is that they _are_ able to breed." He paused, and suddenly got a look of deep disgust on his face. "Just the _idea_ of a werewolf breeding is quite sickening; their offspring are automatically infected with the disease."

Rose felt her heart sink below the ground as she saw the blond's eyes shut tightly, as if fending off physical pain.

"Teddy Lupin isn't a werewolf." She daringly spoke out of turn once again.

"Very good, Miss Weasley; there are many people who _aren't_ werewolves." He said extremely condescendingly, his words sodden with sneers.

She felt the overwhelming urge to hex him. Instead of resorting to arms, she curled her fists on the desk and closed her eyes before saying, "Remus Lupin's son." through near-cracking teeth.

Again, the man palpably ignored Rose's comment.

"The Ministry takes great precaution against the beasts in society. All werewolves must be certified by someone from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures as 'Safe' in order for them to be able to be amongst people. In my opinion, this is ridiculous, because none of the monsters is ever 'Safe'."

"They're human twenty-nine days out of thirty!" Rose protested.

"Miss Weasley, speak out of turn again, and it will be thirty points from Gryffindor." Professor Smith's face was cold.

She sighed heavily, theatrically, her leg bouncing again in frustration. She resigned to looking solely at Scorpius, paying no mind to Professor Smith at all.

His head was still tilted down, his eyes open now, but completely blank, lips slightly parted, free of any tension, hands folded in his lap, completely relaxed now. His back was slouched forward in any casual way a sixteen-year-old boy sat. It was almost scary to Rose how void of emotion he looked. Not for the first time while taking his image in, she felt tears well up behind her eyes.

It was bad enough to hear all of this cruel misinformation just _knowing_ someone was a werewolf… she could only imagine how horrible it was when he actually _was_ one. Maybe it was jumping to conclusions, but she was sure that all of things he was saying now had crossed his mind at least once in the past four months… now having them all blown up in his face… she shuddered at the thought.

"—there are some regions in the North where they like to all group together. It's in these places that they're hunted the most actively. I've supported this movement for years, personally. It only reduces the risk of having them reproduce, or bite someone… imagine having one of the monsters in school with you one day!"

There was an audible sound of a chair scraping against the stone floor, and before anyone was really sure what was happening, there was the door was shoved open, and a flash of white-blond hair exited the room, leaving a conspicuously open seat where Scorpius was just seconds prior.

All at once, there was an outbreak of whispers, assumptions of what just happened.

Rose, during this, was completely silent, feeling like her heart had just been torn right out of her chest.

"Must be headed to the hospital wing," Professor Smith had to nearly shout to be heard over the incessant murmurs. "Thought he was looking a little peaky,"

The whispers gradually calmed down, leaving him more room to freely bash lycanthropes once more.

"But anyway," He said, and the last of the voices died off, "Where was I?" He asked himself. "Oh yeah! Werewolf Hunting, in many areas, is considered recreation. I'm not discrediting the sport in any way, but it _is_ illegal, according to new Ministry laws put into place after the Second War, which _I_ think are complete rubbish—"

"You are so ignorant." Rose's voice was deadly. Her hands gripped the edge of the desk, which she used for support as she stood up, her chair sliding backwards, causing an unpleasant nails-against-a-chalkboard noise.

"Excuse me, Miss Weasley?" The man looked downright offended.

"You're encouraging _murder_! And maybe you don't realize it, because of your lack of tolerance, but werewolves are _humans_ most of the time!" Her volume gradually rose, leaving her shouting at the end of the sentence.

"They are not human. They are beasts, and I—"

"Maybe one day out of an entire month! You're teaching us to hate other humans just because they turn into something different once a month." She countered in the same tone as before. "Are you going to tell us to hate Animagi, too?" She crossed her arms.

"Animagi _choose _to turn into an animal, and they're—"

"Do you think, if given the choice, people would _want_ to be werewolves?" Rose screamed incredulously at his accusation.

Unable to come up with a response, per usual, the man opted for ignoring what she said. "Miss Weasley, I will _not_ have you speak to me like that! I am a teacher, and you are a student!"

"_Really?_ I could've never guessed because you hardly taught me anything today other than to hate people for what they can't help." Her tone was forced to stay level, tears burning in her throat.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor!" He shouted back at her, his face turning nearly purple with rage.

Letting out a breath, quite surprised it didn't come out as steam, she snatched her books and her bag off the top of her desk. She turned on her heel and walked the same way her classmate just had out the door, being sure to tip over her chair as she walked out at a brisk pace.

The door slammed loudly behind her, and immediately the whispers began again.

She didn't care though; two things motivated her feet to just keep walking. One: getting away from the bloody idiot named Professor Smith, and two: finding Scorpius.

After an immeasurable amount of time, she was still walking, spurred on by the sudden rush of adrenaline in her veins. Portraits attempted to speak to her numerous times, but she ignored them and only walked faster, making all of the scenery around her turn into a great blur.

Realizing she didn't have any idea where Scorpius would possibly go, and having cooled down enough to form rational thoughts, she slowed down. She wasn't quite sure how she ended up in a First Floor corridor with a Charms class going on in a classroom beside her, so she took a moment to reevaluate what she was doing.

Sighing heavily, she understood that just walking with no direction was getting her nowhere. Turning the opposite direction, she began to walk to the Common Room, and planned to just talk to Scorpius at dinner or something.

Halfway down a Fourth Floor corridor void of any students or teachers, only consisting of empty classrooms, she realized that some liquid was splashing up at her ankles.

Confusedly looking at the stone underneath her feet, Rose saw that there was a stream of the perfectly-clear liquid originating from the very end of the hallway.

The Prefect in her kicked in, and she marched to the final door in the corridor, planning to give the cheeky student an earful about "vandalism of school property" and things of the like.

She stopped just outside the door, and straightened up, making sure she looked superior.

There was a window on the door that peeked into the room. Feeling nosy as she ever had, Rose looked through the glass to see nothing but a few dusty unused desks. But the stream of water was still on the ground, shining against the dull floor.

She followed the flow up to a lazily-waving wand. Though she couldn't see the entire person's figure, she would recognize the head of platinum hair, turned away from her gaze, anywhere.

Heart lifting, she took a few deep breaths. Her plan for scolding the person, as well as the one for going to the Common Room, was completely forgotten.

Lifting a shaking hand, she turned the doorknob.

* * *

**A/N: **O snap, cliffie! XP

It needed a median point, so I put in one. Considering how stretched out the last chapter used to be in my outline, a _lot_ of stuff happened in a short amount of time. So this one is kind of like a break. Not a filler, because this was a main part of the initial outline. But it also could've easily been combined with the next chapter; I just decided to keep them separate. For my sanity. :D

I hate standardized testing. But it did allow me to write a large chunk of this chapter :D

The DADA Professor is Zacharias Smith's brother. He's based almost entirely off my English teacher last year… ugh, I hated that man. Just throwing it out there.

All right, done for this time.

As usual, put it on **STORY ALERT**! And,

PLEASE_PLEASE__**PLEASE **_review! It makes me smile.

*Important Notice: (haha)  
Updates will now be coming _every Friday_. Thank me for that? :D

Until next time,

_KitKat Pyrophobia_


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **Pssh, yeah right. JK Rowling could come up with a much better plot than this… :D

**A/N:** Another shortie... but still gets everything I need to across. See what I said about combining this chapter and the last one??

* * *

_"Speak to me as to thy thinkings, As thou dost ruminate, and give thy worst of thoughts The worst of words." _

Othello, Act 1 Scene 3

* * *

_Augamenti_, he thought once again and languidly flicked his wand. A feeble stream of clear water fell from the tip, fusing with the rest of the growing torrent on the floor. He hardly paid attention to where it splashed underneath and around his feet.

Scorpius squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in his hands, roughly wiping his itching eyes with polished fingers.

He wasn't daft. He knew that they were going to have to learn about werewolves sometime in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, especially now at N.E.W.T. level; he read and re-read the chapter in the text so many times that he had entire pages memorized, and could recite them verbatim.

He didn't, however, take into account the fact that Professor Smith was explicitly prejudiced to victims of the affliction.

The professor was a slap-in-the-face reminder of how people realistically viewed lycanthropes, one that the young Malfoy desperately tried his hardest to block out of his thoughts so he didn't have to face it.

Chuckling to himself deprecatingly, Scorpius silently thanked Headmistress McGonagall for keeping the professor in the dark about it.

Though the discriminatory man didn't address any of his chauvinistic comments directly toward Scorpius, he couldn't help but take every single word he said personally.

He spoke about Scorpius like he wasn't human (most of the time); he generalized that he was evil, and his only quest in life, now that he was bitten, was to infect others with his own malady…

He _wasn't _Fenrir Greyback.

Scorpius's heart was toughened enough by years of bullying and abuse to not break down at the simple bigotry of a solitary person. He wasn't so sensitive that he even really _cared_ what the man said… it was more of the principle of the thing. And the logical statistics. If one man felt this way about a creature, there had to be many, many more. More people than Scorpius could stomach; all of them wanted to hunt him down and kill him because of something unfortunate that he couldn't help. The thought was suffocating to an impressionable teenager living with such a malady.

And when Professor Smith began about the reproduction… it did nothing less than pull at his nerve-endings until he could hardly take it. Scorpius _knew_ he couldn't ever have children. He knew it would be the cruelest thing he could possibly do to an innocent. The way the man so blatantly showed his disgust for werewolf offspring only confirmed the Malfoy's worst fear, and effaced his last shred of hope, for any future life that included a family.

Every word that came out of the man's mouth, beginning with his opening line of "werewolves", gnawed at the edges of Scorpius's internal wound that had existed since that fateful summer night, when the spell he was so carelessly using now could've saved his life. There was less anger than he expected, only the overwhelming urge to scream. He didn't want to cry; he never wanted cry. He just wanted to be alone more than anything. He wanted to be truly alone: no family, no friends, no classmates or teachers… if there was no one to get close to, there was no one to hurt or be hurt by.

A big part of him wanted it all to go away; the other part wanted to face it head-on, just to show the world he could live, civilized and something close to happily, with the affliction.

And then there was Rose Weasley.

It was surprising, to say the least, to hear such a quiet, respectful student talk back to a teacher so fiercely, as if every word that came out of the man's mouth was an insult that she took to heart. Back in the classroom, he could feel the furious energy radiating off her, could see the flames burning intensely in her eyes as the Professor only continued to provoke her.

Scorpius felt a certain admiration for her for speaking she mind so freely, as if without consequence, stating her opinions and having facts to confirm them, as well. Focusing on her words rather than the Professor's was the only thing that kept him in the room as long as he stayed.

She spoke on the subject in the exact reverse of Professor Smith: as if they weren't harmful at all. She said everything on the false pretense that all werewolves took Wolfsbane correctly and responsibility, and none of them reacted badly, and became violent anyway.

Rose was just so naïve.

But he couldn't help but feel a swell of affection for her every time she opened her mouth back in the classroom. Though she was taking the viewpoint of the other extreme, he was thoroughly fascinated with the manner in which she spoke about sufferers of the malady. She, unlike the Professor, saw past the one day a month where he really dangerous, and realized that he actually _was_ human, and there was a chance that he _wasn't_ like Fenrir Greyback. She showed him that as many people there were like the Professor, there were always the odd ones out that didn't hate him for the thing he couldn't help, and didn't want.

He left when he'd finally had enough of Professor Smith's bashing. He had little control left at that point, and was already shaking from the stress that he was putting on him. And that cheeky comment he made… The man was honestly ignorant enough not to realize that McGonagall wouldn't let a _danger_ous werewolf into school… he'd probably kick Scorpius out of his class and request his immediate expulsion if he knew the truth.

Scorpius ran a hand through his hair, and then leaned back onto his palms on the slightly-rickety desk atop which he was perched. His wand was still underneath his right palm, slightly damp though water stopped falling from the tip. He let his head fall backwards, his eyes closed as he exhaled deeply. His life was so frustrating.

_Maybe sleeping would help_, he thought with a slight smile, relaxing his tightly-closed eyes. The fact that there was bright afternoon light coming through a glassless window to his right didn't bother him at all. The fact that he would probably wake up in a few minutes because some nightmare frightened him into consciousness didn't matter at the moment. He just wanted to escape reality, if only for a short while.

Just as he was about to adjust himself into a more comfortable position on the desktop, a foreign sound caused him to open his eyes and look around.

"There are loads of other empty classrooms, you know," He grumbled to a very timid-looking Rose Weasley, who stood in the doorframe with one hand still on the doorknob. He instantly was reminded of the train ride to Hogwarts, when she came to his compartment. How is it that she always ended up finding him when he wanted to be alone?

A smile turned up the corners of her mouth just slightly. "Well, _you're_ not in any of the other empty classrooms,"

Scorpius gave a look of question, now sitting forward, suddenly wide awake.

Looking cautious, Rose closed the door and walked over to a confused Scorpius, stopping a foot from the edge of the desk, shifting her weight uneasily.

He was slightly angry at her for interrupting his brooding, but at the same time, he felt the same strange sort of jubilation he did on the train with her presence.

Glancing towards her, the blond saw that she was flitting with the edge of her sweater awkwardly, her eyes expertly avoiding his.

Behind her, he saw that the water he'd been conjuring in small amounts had built up to a great puddle on the ground that led all the way out the door and down the hallway. Feeling embarrassed at his heedlessness, he hastily muttered an incantation, and the water vanished.

Looking grateful, Rose moved to the edge of the rounded stone wall and sat down, her legs extended in front of her, crossed at the ankles.

The uncomfortable silence was suffocating Scorpius. He didn't want to say anything and sound rude, but he wanted to know why she was in there, interrupting his potential naptime. He looked at her again, to see her looking out the window.

"Isn't there still class going on?" He asked finally, after a few more claustrophobic moments.

Her reaction surprised him. Instead of giving a casually rehearsed answer, her eyes brightened considerably, and she grinned in a way that made the well-lit room look darker in comparison.

"I left too," She said, sounding way too proud for her own good.

This girl was full of surprises, Scorpius decided. "Why?" He asked.

Rose shrugged, still looking out the window. "I was done listening to him,"

His mouth curved upward into a half-smile.

"Plus, I wanted to see if you were okay; you left kind of… suddenly," A flush deepened on her cheeks, and she looked down at her hands, which were distractedly playing with the hem of her skirt.

"I'm fine," He responded hollowly in a way that wouldn't convince the most gullible of people. This girl was becoming much too concerned with him…

"Why'd you leave?" She asked, glancing up to meet his deeply detached eyes briefly, seeming to be rather anxious.

The question sparked so many thoughts he tried to hard to block out… so many honest reasons he wouldn't say… so many reminders of people…

"Same reason as you," He opted to play it off with a simple shrug, leaning back slightly on the desk.

Rose nodded, an unreadable expression on her face.

Scorpius wasn't sure what to say next. He knew _she_ had something to say (she always did), or else she wouldn't have come looking for him. So, he waited, trying to keep still on the desktop even though he felt fidgety.

"It was just the way he was talking about them, you know?" The girl suddenly exploded after a few moments. "He acted like all they wanted to do is kill people." Her petite hands were balled up into tight fists, and she seemed like she was fighting to keep her voice steady.

The blond felt a familiar tightness in his chest; Rose didn't know the half of it…

"You can't really think that they're all completely harmless, though," He said carefully, testing her.

"Yes I can," She countered briskly.

He furrowed his brow, his thoughts quickly moving for courage and strength from the girl to ignorance.

"That is to say, if they're certified," She clarified, looking straight at him for the first time, an almost searching look in her shining tawny eyes.

"So there's no chance for error at all?" He challenged.

"They employ Aurors _and _Officials from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. If they're going to certify someone as Safe, they're going to do it right." She seemed overly-convinced to Scorpius. She obviously was taking the path of optimism rather than the cynicism route Scorpius opted for.

"So, you _really_ think that they're not harmful?" He asked, a little optimistic despite his mind wanting greatly to be desensitized.

"You want to know what I _really_ think?"

Scorpius felt like he was opening the floodgates of both bitter hope and obligatory disappointment. "Sure," He said, bracing himself.

"I think people conveniently forget that they're human every day except for once a month. And unless they're mass murderers or something, I don't think anyone really _deserves_ to be thought of in that way."

He nodded, her words filling a certain void in his chest that existed since that summer.

"I know that there are the bad ones; I'm not dumb, nor ignorant," She paused, to look up at him, carefully wording her thoughts in her mind. "Take my uncle, Bill. Well, I guess the real example would be Fenrir Greyback,"

The name stabbed him through his chipping heart.

"He actually attacked my uncle when he wasn't even transformed. And he killed more people than I can even imagine. He used the fact that he was a werewolf to his advantage, using his own bitter resentment to bite as many people as he could." Her voice sounded slightly choked, her eyes getting shiner as she spoke.

Scorpius looked down, his hair conveniently shading his darkened gray eyes, which were suddenly emotionless. He wished there was more justice in the world, and that that horrible man got a fate worse than the simple escape of death… he wished that Greyback wasn't the type of monster he was assumed to be now… wished that the world would see things in his perspective before jumping to conclusion…

"But then, you have the ones like Remus Lupin," Her face began glowing with a certain respect, her eyes fiery with passion.

"You said something about him…" It took Scorpius an instant to remember what she'd said, "He was a war hero?"

The redhead nodded enthusiastically. "That, and the old DADA professor. He functioned just fine in school," she looked at him, as if trying to communicate something nonverbally.

An ominous feeling began to twist in the pit of his stomach.

"But he was also in the Order of the Phoenix, and he was, from what my parents say, one of the nicest people in the world. So, from what I gather at least, being a werewolf does nothing to affect who you are a person… just who you are once a month," She offered a small smile.

He looked up through the shield of his hair, his mind feeling muddled and much too clear all at once. Something in her eyes confused him…

"And, if you take the time to really _think_ about it," Rose went on, after the moment of miscommunication, "A lot of innocent people are affected by werewolves, but they aren't all bad, right? If they're innocent before they're bitten, does it make them evil after?" she looked confused herself by now, avoiding his eyes again in a way that made the knotting in his stomach more pronounced.

Scorpius felt like he should say something… he opened his mouth to speak, but no words were forming in his mind, so he shut it again.

"So, I basically just think that their humanity is taken for granted," She shrugged, her voice getting much softer, but still sounding loud and clear as ever to the boy, as she looked up at him again.

He studied her expression carefully, but still couldn't place what that underlying emotion playing behind her eyes was… he wasn't sure whether he liked it or not, but knew he couldn't tear his eyes from hers in that oddly electric moment.

"But, they're not human…anymore," He mumbled after he regained some of his composure, words spilling from his mouth before he really knew what point he was trying to make.

"No, not technically," She shrugged, looking rather indifferent. "But I see them as something more like unintentional Animagi," She smiled again.

It was contagious, but he only managed a halfhearted one in return.

"I mean," She began, looking back down at her hands, "I know you didn't _choose_ for this to happen,"

Scorpius's breath caught in his throat as he took a moment to process what she implied…

She _knew_?

But… how?

Even through his exceedingly dry mouth, he managed to stammer out some excuse for leaving, which he couldn't even remember two seconds after he said it.

Rising hastily from his half-sitting, half-leaning position on the desk, he nearly ran on numb legs out the door.

From the corner of his eye, he saw that Rose was now watching him meticulously, an almost regretful expression on her face.

How did she find out?

And why did _she_ have to find out?

He must've been too careless around her—that would be the only explanation. He tried to remember a time where he could've slipped up without realizing it… but his mind was reeling too much to focus on one thought for too long.

The feeling as if his stomach fell straight through his feet overcame him. He felt sick. Blackness webbed around the edges of his vision; his head felt like it was splitting in two. The tears clouding behind his eyes from the inescapable pain did nothing to help his affected sight.

He passed the Great Hall without seeing it. Portraits were looking at him oddly, not used to catching sight of such a confused—and almost frightened—looking boy hurriedly sauntering through the halls at such an hour. Fear wasn't the most prominent emotion he felt by far, but it was undeniably mixed in there with the rest.

Rose wouldn't tell anyone would she?

She seemed trustworthy enough for the six years he knew her… but she was so close with her family… if Albus or Lily Potter asked her, would she lie?

And _why_ did she seem so casual about it?

There was something seriously defective about the girl: to be able to defend and fervently rant about how werewolves were completely harmless in the face of someone who lived with the condition every day… Maybe it was all an act, a method to get inside his head, to undiscovered territory. Or, maybe it _wasn't_.

Maybe she _was_ naïve enough to believe that he was the same person he was before, which he obviously wasn't…

… but was he?

He was still the quiet, antisocial guy who ate in the kitchens rather than in the Great Hall, the same person the teachers adored because of his brain and the students tried to trip in the halls because of his family history. He was still Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy… only more resentful towards the world than ever.

Too many thoughts were passing through his head at once… the fact that her assumed thoughts were proven to be correct before he even realized them… the fact that he trusted her in spite of himself…

She was too nosy for her own good.

He worried about where they were going from there… he knew full well that she wasn't just going to leave him be and let him go through school peacefully, unhappily, alone, now that she knew… No. That was not how Rose Weasley operated.

The worst case scenario would be her latching onto him, telling everyone who would listen about his affliction… the utopian scenario would be her completely ignoring the fact. Knowing both of these were near-impossible, he came up with an internal compromise as an expectation, somewhere in the middle of both of these circumstances. _And_, he contemplated; _it might be nice for me to have someone to trust… even if I _do_ want to be alone._

He reached his bed without even realizing he correctly responded to the doorknob's riddle. His splitting headache unwavering, he collapsed onto the bed and barely kicked off his shoes before falling into an impatient sleep.

* * *

**A/N: **Just because it's original doesn't mean it's not predictable :D

Oh, my beautiful best friend Beta, Idiosyncrasy, hates this story with such a burning passion... XP

Righty-O,

So the usual, put on **Story Alert** and PLEEASSEEE **REVIEW**!

K, I'm done for now. See you in a week! :D

_KitKat Pyrophobia_


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Nothing nothing nothing.

**A/N: **I broke 100 reviews! I love you all!

Something akin to fluff in this chapter? Friendship fluff, not romantic fluff, though. A distant cousin, maybe… oh, and panic attacks! Those are always fun. :D

_

* * *

"We do not keep the outward form of order, where there is deep disorder in the mind."_

Hamlet, Act 1 Scene 4

* * *

That went a lot differently than Rose imagined.

Naively enough, in her mind, she pictured herself finding some borderline-epic method of revealing her information to Scorpius in a passionate monologue. She saw him being shocked by her brilliance and asking how in the world she knew. At that point, she would go into an entire drawn-out spiel about the past few months, how she'd noticed a change in him, and how she investigated the fact. Then, Scorpius would thank her graciously for caring about him, and ask for her constant companionship through his current destitution, to which she would gladly oblige.

But no.

She _casually_ slipped it into their conversation, and he ran.

Wonderful.

The first few days after she told him had been tense to say the least. For the first time all year, she didn't favor the fact that they shared so many classes together, and somehow ended up next to each other in all of them.

She tried her hardest to keep her eyes from betraying her adamant mindset and watching him, but this only half-worked. Luckily, there was class work to be done, and she could use this to focus on instead of him. (Professor Smith was colder to Rose than ever in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Rose hardly cared. She was completely fine with being ignored by a man who she now abhorred, and did her work in silent peace.)

The two hardly spoke to begin with, so she really shouldn't have been surprised when they didn't speak at all for the first, say, five days afterward. Though this fact was hardly noticeable to anyone else, it made Rose's heart give a painful twinge every time he didn't even acknowledge her existence in class. She knew she was being selfish, but she couldn't help the way she felt.

Nothing about this was going as planned. By now, in a perfect world, they should've been inseparable, getting to know each other more and more each day they spent together… but they were just the opposite. Their relationship, or lack thereof, was only going downhill.

So, naturally, Rose began revising her plan.

Though she didn't know the exact lunar cycle (curse her lack of retaining knowledge from First Year Astronomy!), she knew full moons were around a month apart each. So, at the full moon the next month, somewhere around the next Saturday, she decided she would visit him. Not on the day of the change, of course, since that would be just dumb and risky, but the next day, she would go to the hospital wing. It would be the same as the last time, only there would be even more between them. It was completely foolproof in her mind…

… but she couldn't help but remember how badly her plans went the last time.

* * *

Scorpius quickly came to hate the routine trips to the dungeons every night for a week before the full moon. And his least favorite trips were the ones on the night of the full moon. Because, even though he knew from the four times before, when he'd made it there perfectly on time, he always felt a certain unparalleled anxiety that he somehow wouldn't make it from the Potions classroom to the Hospital Wing on time, and someone would see his wolf form stalking the halls of the castle. And, what would happen to him if he saw, or smelled another human? He kept his head, he knew, when he transformed, but he was always alone those times… what would happen the one off day when he walks a little too slowly, or is running a little behind, and he encounters another student?

Shaking that thought away, suddenly feeling clammy, his hands shaking, he pushed open the hefty stone door.

Hardly paying attention to anything other than the mundane task at hand, Scorpius didn't even notice that Rose and Professor Slughorn were both already conversing in the Potions classroom.

"Hello, Professor Slughorn," He said, his mouth adhering to a set habit.

Then, his eyes focused.

And they focused, not for the first time in the past ten days, on Rose Weasley.

"Hello, Rose," He greeted cordially, his chest feeling an odd squeeze.

The redhead, who was clutching a piece of parchment in one hand and a quill in the other, looked over at him with a peculiar expression in her eyes. "Hello, Scorpius," she replied, her tawny depths shining.

"Scorpius Malfoy, m'boy!" Slughorn's eyes went as wide as his waistline as he glanced from the boy in the room to the girl. Instantly, he began a cover-up for the Malfoy. He bustled over to the blond, asking him some hastily stammered question about needing help with the essay as well. He glanced purposefully over to Rose the entire time he was speaking.

Scorpius looked over at the girl, now standing awkwardly behind Slughorn, as well with an almost frighteningly expressionless face. "She knows already, Professor," He said, his placidness changing quickly to exasperation.

If it was even possible, the Professor's eyes went wider. "S-sorry?" He choked.

"She knows that I'm a werewolf. Now, I don't mean to be rude, but I'm kind of on a tight schedule," He said shortly, his worst fears bubbling higher in his chest every extra second he stood in the room.

With a final confused glance towards each of the pair, the man rushed over to his desk, where a smoking goblet was standing full and upright.

Rising the chalice in a mock-toast toward the man, he downed the contents, the entirety of the bitter taste exploding disgustingly against his taste-buds. He almost choked, but composed himself with a simple grimace.

"Thank you," He mumbled, handing the other man the now-empty goblet.

Slughorn nodded somberly.

Scorpius turned to leave, like every night that week.

"When is it?" A quiet voice sounded behind him.

He hesitated at the exit, one hand against the door, head bowed. "Tonight," He replied, just as softy.

"I'm sorry," Rose said, so quietly that Slughorn probably didn't hear it, though Scorpius did as if she'd spoken at a normal decibel level.

Lowering his head against the door, his hair momentarily shading his grave eyes, he whispered a "Yeah", before continuing his quick stride out of the room, to the hospital wing. He hardly even saw the castle now as he made the treacherous hike through the vast bastion, the portraits and suits of armor and classrooms becoming so familiar that they were all one big blur.

"Mister Malfoy," Madame Pomfrey was ever-anxious, hurrying toward him as soon as he cleared the threshold.

"Madame Pomfrey," He nodded politely, nervousness crawling up his arms steadily.

"Are you ready?" She asked tensely.

He managed a weak smile, and wordlessly followed her as she bustled towards the door at the back of the room.

* * *

That night, just like the one the month before, Rose didn't get a full ten minutes of sleep. She sat by the windowsill of her dorm room, the conspicuously full moon shining down on the pages of her tome as she tried to distract herself, and keep her mind from wandering to the hospital wing.

It was greatly ineffective.

Every time she finished reading a sentence, Rose would think about Scorpius. What was he doing? How was he coping? Was he in pain? Where was he? Was he alone? When would he change back into a human?

By the time the sun peeked above the horizon, Rose felt extremely drained, and each of her movements to get ready for the Saturday afternoon were sluggish and subdued. She didn't know quite when the odd sleepless surge of energy would hit her, but she sincerely hoped that she wouldn't fall asleep when she was with Scorpius… and, yes, that _was_ still the plan.

Thinking that the warm water against her skin would wake her up, she took a shower… the warm water didn't help.

Unconsciously selective as always when dressing, she pulled on her best pair of dark-wash jeans, and her favorite caramel-colored sweater over a plain white, fitted top. It was December already, somehow, and the extra layer gave her added warmth against the omnipresent chill in the castle. After her regular quick routine of teeth-skin-hair, she took a final glance in the mirror, slipped on her shoes, which were actually house-slippers, the white, comfortable ballet-shoe type, and strode out of her dorm room with her textbook in hand. Nerves budded in her stomach. She found herself, more than once, tugging on a strand of hair twirling around her forefinger, an age-old nervous habit of hers.

Rose honestly wasn't quite sure what to expect with Scorpius anymore…

* * *

Scorpius's entire body was aching as he was pulled calmly out of a restless sleep, a familiar sensation after nights like the previous one.

Groaning something unintelligible even to himself, he turned his body to his side, settling into the thin mattress, thin sheet, thin pillow, thin veil between him and the wall. He closed his half-opened eyes again, only to find them protesting, insisting he open them fully. He protested their protest, squeezing them shut more tightly. But even in the dimly-lit morning, sunlight permeated and stung his eyelids, causing him to squint open his eyes.

The curtain around his bed was his first sight. A very boring first sight. He blinked away sleep for a few seconds, his silvery eyes slowly livening as he realized he got through the night peacefully unharmed.

Scorpius shifted his body to his back, raising himself to a sitting position, rubbing his eyes with the balls of his hands. He noted that he was shirtless, but was wearing what seemed like forest green cotton pajama bottoms. There was an abnormal texture rubbing against his eye, he also noted. Pulling his hand back from where it chafed against his skin, he saw, his heart dropping terribly, a crimson-spotted, but otherwise white, bandage wrapped from his wrist all the way around his palm. He turned his hand over a few times for inspection, and then flexed it. Small spots began to grow, as he did this, on the top of his hand.

_I must've gotten bored_, he thought dryly. He briefly looked over the rest of his body for any other bandages, but gladly discovered none. Turning around to inspect his back, something rather startling caught his eye.

There, in all of her redheaded glory, sat Rose Weasley, peering at him nervously over the top of the Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook.

His body suddenly feeling flushed despite the chilly air against his skin, his right hand automatically flew up to the crook of his neck to cover his scar… but then, he realized that there was no point in hiding anything, since she already knew everything.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, more confused than angry. He was very troubled, though; the thought ran through his head that'd been there before: she was becoming much too concerned with him.

She bit her lip momentarily. He couldn't help but notice how the white of her straight teeth contrasted with the natural pink of her lower lip. "I didn't think you'd want to be alone," she said, her voice quiet.

His heart gave an odd jolt. He was suddenly wide awake. "I do," He lied tensely.

In response, she smiled warmly, her nervous eyes calming into a serene golden brown. "Too bad," she said lightly.

At this, Scorpius slumped back against the wall behind him, crossing his arms, both out of brooding and self-consciousness at his lack of proper clothing.

Scorpius vaguely wondered if the awkward moments between them would ever cease.

"I have a question," She said boldly after a few moments.

He looked away from the empty bed across the room, at which he'd been glaring, to Rose, who didn't meet his eyes.

"Where do we go from here?" She glanced up, caught his eye, and looked back down, cheeks tingeing pink.

Looking at Rose intensely without actually seeing her, Scorpius pondered the thought. There was hardly a chance that Rose would agree to just leave him alone now that she knew. He thought about what they were before that year… Were they ever really friends? She was a person who was always around. They usually sat next to each other when they were in the same class, but hardly spoke. Even still, they were always friendly with each other. And, she remained one of the few people who could ever really make him smile. That could define friendship, right?

And now that she knew more than anyone else in the school, save for a few teachers, about him and his current position, where did it leave them?

He suddenly remembered the pleasant feeling of release he felt two months previously when he spoke to her about his condition without her knowing what he was indirectly speaking of… he imagined what it would be like to talk freely about the lycanthropy…

He broke out of his momentary reverie, and focused on Rose. "Can I trust you?"

She nodded without a moment's hesitation.

"Then we can go wherever we want," He opted to shrug, making up his mind on the spot.

An animated smile broke out on her face, lighting up her eyes.

Scorpius peered downward, an invisible force tugging up the corner of his mouth, and causing his cheeks to heat up the slightest bit.

There was a rustling, and Scorpius looked up from his hands to see what the noise was.

"Scoot over," Rose mock-commanded, now standing up with her hands fisted on her denim-covered hips.

Brow furrowed in confusion, he shifted to the side, leaving enough room for a rather small person to fit.

It was a good thing Rose was a generally small person. She climbed up into the space, drawing her knees up to her chest. "Hospital Wing chairs suck," She explained with a small smile on her face. "I've been sitting there since about seven this morning,"

"And you didn't wake me?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Right, because it wouldn't have been weird for me to wake you up,"

"Yeah, because it wasn't weird to wake up and you be there," He joked.

"I was reading." She grinned in a triumphant manner.

Scorpius rolled his eyes at her lame excuse. Self-conscious as always around her, his hand snaked again up to the apex of his shoulder and neck, moving over the idiosyncratic bit of skin lying there.

This didn't escape Rose's notice. She nibbled her lip nervously again, her hand moving up to tug on a strand of hair. "Is that where…?" She gestured to the hand covering his neck.

He glanced down to his pale, un-bandaged hand. "Oh, yeah," He said quietly.

The way she kept her gaze set on his hand told him, rather blatantly, what she was too shy to say aloud.

Though worried of her reaction to it, he slowly lifted each of his now-numb fingers, fully revealing the bit of his body of which he loathed the sight.

Scorpius could easily tell that she was trying to hold in a gasp or a comment or something of the sort by the way her eyes widened and her mouth clamped shut.

His hand itched to cover up the scar once again, for it to escape her now-horrified gaze. The self-deprecation he routinely felt was threatening to simmer over his lips; he was about ready to rant about how hideous the scar was, how life was so unfair, how things weren't worth the hassle…

But then, ever-cautious, she slowly reached her hand across her body, angling her torso toward him. Still chewing her lip anxiously, she retracted her hand for a moment just before her outstretched fingertips touched his skin, meeting his eyes briefly for permission. Then, at the sight of his nervous face, something flashed behind her eyes, akin to her characteristic Gryffindor courage, and the very tips of her fingers brushed the raised and indented skin of his scar.

Scorpius's skin scorched.

Using the feather-light touch of her index finger, she traced the mark, gently gliding from just beside his jugular, down the misshapen crescent tissue to the edge of his collar bone. The line was ragged and inconsistent, showing tell-tale signs of where Fenrir Greyback sunk his teeth in more than once, causing a harsher wound. It was clear where the man had been missing teeth, or his teeth were different sizes, the spot where the canines were in the man's mouth were the ugliest, most distorted parts of his skin; Scorpius's everlasting scar was almost a perfect dental proof, if you studied it from a certain angle.

The tissue of his blemish was hypersensitive to even the gentlest of her touches. It made the hairs on the back of Scorpius's neck stand up, made his jaw clench and unclench repeatedly.

There was something very foreign about someone being, one: in his personal space when he was such an isolated person, and two: so comfortable, intimate, even, with the fact that he was a werewolf, going as far as to trace the line of his most detested attribute with perfect ease.

For an unexplainable reason, Scorpius felt the back of his throat close for a moment; attempting to force air back down the passage, he cleared his throat.

This seemed to break Rose out of some reverie, and she, with a final gentle touch, she withdrew her hand, replacing it on the top of her knee, laying it over her other one.

He licked his lips. There was a conspicuous absence of his usual confident, indifferent self, replaced by a self-conscious, edgy imitation of Scorpius Malfoy.

"So," She began again, her voice rather unsteady with some sort of sober-edged-excitement. "What's it like?"

It was rather transparent what she was talking about.

Pondering this for a second, he planned out his words before he began speaking… what _was_ it like?

"On any normal day, I hardly notice it. The week before and after, I completely hate it. Wolfsbane tastes horrible, even though I can hardly taste because I end up so sick. Then, I have to miss class because of it, which makes me have to work harder to catch up." He looked down at his hands, where the bloodstained white bandage noticeably contrasted with his pale skin.

She waited patiently for him to continue, visibly sinking in all of his words with consideration.

He wasn't quite sure how to describe the transformation… it was at that point that everything got rather muddled in his mind, between flashes of memories of unbearable pain, fear, and stifling sorrow. He opened his mouth for a moment before words actually made their way up his throat. "… it hurts." He began. "A lot. Worse than anything you can really imagine until you experience it. Like a million needles are stabbing you at the same time you're being burned and pulled in all different directions." A gruesome image placed itself in his head… but none of the torturous situations playing themselves out measured up to the pain he now felt on a monthly basis.

Rose made a face that was a mix between horror and sympathy.

"And it's scary. I'm always…" He paused for a moment, wondering if he should really tell her the thoughts that he'd kept inside. Glancing toward her engrossed expression, he felt the floodgates in his mind open, all discretion and walls he'd built up suddenly collapsing. "I'm always afraid, on the way to Slughorn's the night of the full moon, that I'm not going to make it here… that some time I'm going to end up wandering the halls as a wolf. And I know that Wolfsbane lets me keep my head, but I can never really trust myself as a wolf to keep others safe. I'm always by myself when I change, so I can't—I just _can't_—trust myself enough to know that I won't hurt somebody when I do." He looked down at his hand as he spoke, a palpable bit of evidence to prove his words.

She followed his gaze to his bandaged hand. "What happened?" She asked softly.

Scorpius smiled weakly, dryly. "I don't know. And that's what scares me."

"Mister Malfoy, you're up," Madame Pomfrey came bustling out of her office (did that woman _ever_ walk at a normal pace?), over to the bed where the two sat. She paid little-to-no mind to Rose, focusing on her patient.

The blond sat up straighter.

"Let's see this," She said, gently picking up his hand, and unravelling the bandage twined around it.

Both Rose and Scorpius sat in anticipation. Scorpius's stomach turned a few times, dreading what would appear underneath the dressing.

"Ah, wonderful," The older woman said happily, her face brightening as she saw his hand.

Confusion overtook Scorpius as he looked down at his own hand, which, despite the dots and pools of blood tinting the white wrapping, was completely healed, with nothing but a few hairline indentions marking the spot where he thought was going to be a fully-gory wound.

"What happened?" He asked, his brow furrowed, turning his hand over to inspect for further wounds, or lack thereof.

"The potion we gave you worked wonders," She lied briskly, looking meaningfully over to the girl sitting, just as confusedly, beside him.

His mind reeled as he tried to remember ever consuming a potion. Glancing up toward the woman, he saw her gaze on Rose, and everything was explained, except for the only thing he wanted to know. "Oh, Rose knows," He stated easily.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Rose spare a sheepish smile.

"I thought she might," Madame Pomfrey nodded. "When you came out last night, your hand was wounded rather severely. I think you might've been gnawing on it… but, at any rate, it's good that you heal so quickly."

"I do?"

"Yes, you heal much more efficiently than any regular human." At his surprised expression, she asked, "Didn't you ever wonder why your bite mended so quickly?"

He shrugged, his hand unconsciously moving to his scar once more. "I thought it might've been something they gave me at St. Mungo's. Madame Pomfrey, I don't remember reading this anywhere."

She tutted. "Literature is generally anti-werewolf, detailing the cons of the affliction and not any of the pros."

He nodded in understanding, his stomach dropping slightly at the same time his heart lifted. There were _pros_ to being a werewolf?

"And you're not sick?" She asked him.

"Headache, but that's all." He managed a small smile.

"You're building up quite a tolerance, I'm glad to see." She smiled as well, though hers was rather tight. "Call if you need anything," The woman said with finality, and turned back to her office.

"So, I chewed my own hand. Wonderful," He said wryly, looking down at his barely-marked hand.

"You can't tell," Rose said, speaking for the first time since Madame Pomfrey arrived. She, now shamelessly, reached out toward his hand and ran a finger over the small marks, slightly lighter than his skin, creating an overall curved pattern, before retracting her hand back onto her lap.

He shook his head. "It's not that. It's that I don't remember doing something that hurt myself." Fear and anxiety rose in his stomach, filling his lungs, and replacing the oxygen in them. "What if it'd been someone else who I decided to gnaw on for a minute? What's going to happen in a few years when I've built up such a tolerance to Wolfsbane that it's completely ineffective?"

The look of intense fear in his eyes triggered some maternal instinct in Rose. She placed her hand on his, squeezing firmly for a moment, waiting for his now-labored breathing to return to a normal pace.

Her skin on his caused a certain calming effect on him. Feeling almost dizzy, he squeezed his eyes shut, and moved his hand from under hers, rubbing his eyes roughly with the heels of his hands.

"Scorpius, you wouldn't hurt anyone. You know that. _I_ know that," She said, her voice soothing to the prickling feeling crawling up his body like a thousand spiders.

"I don't know that," He whispered, his voice somewhat muffled as he looked downward.

"Yes, you do." She said firmly, looking at him intently, though he didn't see her.

Light was exploding behind his eyelids, he was pressing so hard. "I don't," He countered. He then realized that the floodgates he thought he unleashed were a calm, gentle stream compared to the full-out panic attack that assaulted him now.

"I'm going to build up a tolerance to it, and McGonagall is going to realize that I can't be controlled anymore, so I'll be sent home. Then, my parents will realize they can't do anymore than the school could, and I'll be sent to live in the wild. And there, I'll be hunted and killed. And if I'm not, I'll end up hurting, infecting, or killing someone else, and I'll be even _more_ hated by people. I'll end up a mindless monster, living off animals I catch in between meals of humans. I'll ruin people's lives just like Fenrir Greyback. I'll be a monster… a _monster_." He said in a few shallow breaths, words tumbling almost scarily quickly out of his mouth before he even made sense of what he was saying. His body burned and ached all over, and he felt like he was no longer in control of anything he was going to say or do.

Rose, contrary to him, held a completely tranquil, admirably so, composure, looking at him with forced calm as he spoke, waiting patiently for her moment to steadily push aside everything he said. Taking a deep breath, and watching him attempt to do the same, she began. "No one builds up a tolerance to the Potion, Scorpius, just the sickness." That was something she read some time ago in one of her uncle's Defense Against the Dark Arts books.

His wild eyes went slightly unclear as he tried to focus on her words, and not the horrible images that were playing themselves in his mind.

"McGonagall won't give up, neither will your parents, and neither will I. You're not going to hurt anyone, ever, because I won't let you, so you can forget about that."

He looked up at her, his tense face relaxing slightly as her promises assuaged his apprehension.

"And you're not a monster, Scorpius," She mumbled, sounding very sure of herself nonetheless.

Anger at being defied and affection at her faith in him mingled in stormy gray eyes. "Yes I am," he countered with finality, "You can't deny that."

"Why, because of what Professor Smith and everyone else says?" Her temper flared up unexpectedly.

"No, because it's the truth," His anxiety was suddenly replaced by antagonism, and the _need_ to get his point across.

"And you expect me to buy that?" Her voice stayed quiet and steady, probably in consideration to the splitting headache raising her voice would cause him. "Even before I knew what you were, I _never_ thought that."

"But so many things are going against me. There are so many things that could go wrong, with the Potion, with my reaction, with _anything_,"

Seeing that his minor panic attack was over, she allowed her full emotions to overtake her. "Okay then," she said, fighting a losing battle to keep her temper in check, and her voice at a normal volume.

By the way her eyes shone, and her entire being crackled with electricity, he was greatly reminded of his mother, and the way she reacted when she and his father would get into arguments.

"It's been four months, hasn't it?"

He nodded.

"And you say that you're going to somehow end up like Fenrir Greyback?"

Another nod, a more vigorous one. He wondered where all that anxiety came from, though he thought it was probably from four months of pent-up fears spilling out at once, and why he was having such mood swings, all panic suddenly diminished from his mind.

"He got started out pretty early in his life, I imagine." Rose said, seeming contemplative. "Tell me, how many people have you killed? How many times have you been driven to murder to quench your thirst for human blood, huh? How many people have you injured, or infected?" Her tone was rather pleasant, as if carrying on a regular conversation. But, if he listened, Scorpius could tell a very deadly edge to it.

He only looked at her, unable to say anything.

"And how many times have you resisted to taking Wolfsbane in order to plot hurting someone? How many times have you _planned_ the full moon out, putting yourself as close to people as possible?" Her entire body, by now, was angled toward him, now cross-legged; her gaze into his eyes, for once, was unfaltering.

"If you're so sure you're going to end up a monster, why hasn't it happened by now? It's been four months, and, from what my uncle says, you can tell exactly how someone is going to behave during transformations from the first time they ever do."

He wanted so badly to protest, to say something to disprove what she was saying, but found absolutely nothing. Every word she was saying was based on fact, said with such confidence and assurance that he couldn't argue if he wanted to.

"You are _not_ a monster." She said, more firmly this time.

Her logic was hardly something to argue with. The sudden unfriendliness he felt was gone as quickly as his anxiety was, only to be replaced by indescribable contentedness.

As he felt his breathing slow to normal, his racing heartbeat rest, looking over at Rose's now-resolute expression with actual eased, rather than panicked, eyes, he decided that this mood swing was his favorite. He smiled apologetically at her, a silent thanks for calming him down.

Almost feeling the need to roll her eyes at his quick changes in demeanor, Rose got an odd, abrupt urge. Reaching over toward him with both arms outstretched, she linked her arms around his neck.

Though very surprised at this new contact, Scorpius returned the brief hug, twining his arms around her waist, the light friction of her body against his still-bare chest causing his heart to speed up in a way that he tried his hardest to ignore.

She smiled against his shoulder momentarily before pulling away again, her arms wrapping around her now-pulled-up knees.

The concise, simple exchange left Scorpius smiling without knowing a logical reason why he was doing so.

He slumped back against the wall again, though this time it wasn't out of rebellion, but with fatigue… a feeling mirrored by Rose as she leaned her head back against the stone, shutting her eyes against a nascent headache.

"Miss Weasley, it's almost dinnertime," Madame Pomfrey said with expert timing, poking her head out of her office.

"Thank you," She called back to the woman, who nodded and returned to her work.

Biting her cheek slightly uncertainly, she looked over to Scorpius, who was sitting with his eyes half-closed, trying to clear his mind so he could sleep.

"I'll leave you to sleep," She said, a smile in her voice.

He murmured something mostly unintelligible, shifting downward on the bed for a more horizontal position.

"Are you going to be in class on Monday?" Rose asked, swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

"Should be… not sick," He mumbled, his tiredness now muddling all of his senses.

She smiled warmly, all of her energy drained as well. "See you then,"

His pillow was the only thing that caught the full meaning of what he said after that.

Feeling rather motherly, she readjusted the sheet over him, to where it covered more of his body, which was turned on the side. It wasn't that it was a bad view in any way (which it _definitely_ wasn't, she noted with an accompanying blush), but it would keep him warmer in the ever-cold December castle.

As she was leaving the infirmary, a wide grin spread across her face… and she didn't know why.

* * *

**A/N:** Almost halfway done! Whoo!

So, if you were confused by why Scorpius was having so many mood swings, here's my reasoning behind it: since his body is physically tolerant to the post-moon illness in this month, it has to balance out with mental instability. That's the reason he was pretty indifferent to the whole concept before (compared to now, at least): because his body was physically taking the toll. Now that his body is healthy, his mental state is affected. Get it?

And, another quick explanation: Well, general audience, I'm pretty bad as explaining things in a way that _doesn't_ sound like fluff, so it seems like they feel *romantic like for each other at this point. But, they don't. The reason Scorpius was reacting in the way he did when Rose hugged him and whatnot was because he isn't used to affection from people in general, not because it was _her_. If that makes sense?

So, I tried desperately to find a more appropriate synonym for "stroke", since I'm 15 and very dirty-minded and immature, and dear old Microsoft Word's thesaurus gives me (among others): "caress", "fondle", and "blow". Fml.

**Review **and **Story Alert?**

Less than three,

_KitKat Pyrophobia_


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: **I totally own the entire franchise. Oh wait, that's a lie.

**A/N:** Teeny tiny bits of fluff in the beginning… and not even fluff. Just lighthearted bits of R/S to warm your heart right up. :D hahaha

* * *

"_Oh! You gods, why do you make us love your goodly gifts, and snatch them straight away?"_

Prince of Tyre, Act 3 Scene 1

* * *

Rose woke up and got ready much earlier than normal on the first Friday of the new year. As usual, she was completely exhausted from her insomnia the night prior, but she willed herself to get up early enough to go pay a visit to her favorite werewolf in the infirmary before class began.

Her stride through the entryway of the hospital wing was more like a prance, her usual burst of energy hitting her right on cue.

"Good morning, Scorpius," She said brightly, stopping beside his bed to peer over at his half-lidded eyes.

"Go away," He replied just as convivially, turning over to face her and burying his head in his pillow.

She grinned, and picked up the readily-prepared folded shirt on his beside table.

Scorpius watched her carefully, glaring at the fact that he was now conscious rather than still asleep.

"Remind me why I bother with you?" She asked with a sweet smile, holding his shirt, an ordinary slate gray short-sleeved t-shirt, out for him.

He grudgingly, taking his sweet time, sat up and took the top from her hands. "Because you care too much about things that aren't any of your business," He grumbled.

She rolled her eyes; a grin still ghosted on her lips. _Oh yeah_, she thought as she tried to fight a flush at the way he stretched his arms above his head (nothing to complain about there) as he pulled on the shirt, _because I love him._

… Where did _that_ come from?

_As friends, of course_, she assured herself, her unintentionally-wide eyes returning to a regular size.

And friends they were. Since that day a month previous, when Rose showed the initiative that she, one: cared about him, and two: wasn't going to leave him alone, he gave up on trying to keep her out of his life. This lifted Rose's heart and enlarged her ego greatly. Though they weren't inseparable like in her pipe-dream, they were still closer than they'd ever been before. They'd sat together prior to her finding out, sure, and they still didn't talk much during class (because schoolwork was still vitally important to both serious students), but was easily a new, recognizable, bond between them. Even Lily Potter noticed. ("Rosie, are you and Scorpius finally dating?" "No, Lily. I know it's hard for you to understand, but it _is_ possible to be friends with a boy without dating him.")

Rose loved knowing that she was helping him through a hard time, if only a little bit. Plus, she finally got the redemption she sought about the reason why she was always so attentive toward him: he was a very interesting person.

The more she spoke with him—he even came to dinner in the Great Hall every once in a while now, to sit with her. It was a returned favor for how she went with him into the Kitchens a few times a week—, the more she liked him. He was much more than a conceptual, enigmatic, studious being in her mind, but an actual person with thoughts (rather deep and stimulating ones) and emotions (repressed and fought regularly behind a mask of indifference, but still very apparent in his expressive eyes). Surprisingly enough, they hardly ever spoke about the lycanthropy. They just… talked. About anything and everything. They both knew and acknowledged the fact that he was a werewolf as the reason that they began speaking to each other in the first place, but it was nowhere near a focused point of their friendship. They were just run-of-the-mill friends: people with, unexpectedly, similar thoughts and interests. She was someone who could coax a rare smile out of him. He was someone who could make her laugh—who knew that Scorpius Malfoy was actually funny?

Rose cursed herself for being too shy to talk to him before.

"Isn't there class today?" He asked, furrowing his brow as he straightened the bottom hem of the shirt.

The redhead took her usual spot beside him on the bed, opening her mouth to speak.

"Or did I sleep through Friday?" He asked, as if actually considering it to be an option.

She cracked a smile.

"Did you let me sleep through Friday?" The boy was seemingly outraged.

"It's Friday today, don't worry." She said, her smile widening.

He breathed a playful sigh of relief.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay," Her teeth sunk into her lower lip, cheeks reddening in spite of herself.

The corner of his mouth turned up just slightly, and he looked at his hands. Even after a month of being friends with this girl, he wouldn't get over how caring she was… even when she shouldn't have been.

"I should be fine." He shrugged, looking over himself once for any bandages.

"You're not sick?" She pressed, watching him intently.

"Now that you said something, my throat hurts. And so do my ears. And my head." He grimaced.

A look of great concern crossed her face.

"It's fine, though," He reassured her.

Her worry was assuaged just a little. She glanced down at her wristwatch, and her heart dropped when she saw that she was barely going to have time to get to Potions. "I have to go to class," Rose said regretfully, moving from her spot to stand beside the bed.

"Actually, I think I'll go to class today, too" A spark of excitement flashed behind his quicksilver eyes.

"No!" Rose protested immediately.

He gave her a slightly confused, slightly defiant look.

"You need to sleep. I'm serious. Don't even _think_ of coming to class, or I'll get Madame Pomfrey after you, I swear." Her threatening tone was betrayed by the smile that broke across her face.

"I don't want to miss any more, though," He groaned, leaning his head back against the wall, eyes squeezing together.

"That's the hardest part, huh?" She asked, her voice growing quieter, even in humor; she looked to the stone at her feet.

"The hardest part?" He echoed, "Not even close." Shaking his head, he looked down again at his folded hands.

She cocked an eyebrow interestedly, waiting a moment to see if he would explain.

"The hardest part is knowing that I'll never have a family." He bit his lip uncertainly, not quite knowing what possessed him to say that.

That sent a painful twinge through Rose's chest, choking her up for just a second. "Where are you hurt?" She asked rather abruptly.

"Nowhere that I know of," He said slowly, looking at her strangely.

Cautiously, her eyes still darting around for unseen bandages, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him.

Though surprised, he returned her embrace, gripping her around the waist tightly, resting his face in the crook of her neck. There was something incredibly warm about the feel of her body against his; this was felt by the girl as well, whose arms were twined around his neck, hands resting in small fists on either of his shoulders.

After a comfortably brief amount of time, Rose pulled backward, flushing nearly crimson when she noted how close their faces were.

She removed her hands from his body at the same time he loosed his hold on her waist. Fighting the urge to bite her lip embarrassedly, she said, "I'll bring you the notes, okay?" a smirk perking up the side of her lips.

His mouth mirrored hers. "Okay," He dropped his hands altogether, hardly noticing that they lingered on her in the first place.

Feeling rather bouncy again, Rose sent him a last grin before turning and speedily walking out of the vast room, sure that she was going to be tardy for Potions.

If she would've looked back, she would've seen that his eyes watched her all the way out.

In her haste to get to her class, Rose didn't even see that a solitary body was advancing to hers. In an accident entirely her fault, the girl collided painfully with the other solid body.

It's always a surprising feat to be walking completely upright one moment, and be flat on your back, pain exploding in the back of your head, in the next.

"Ow," Rose muttered weakly, sitting up, her hand reaching for her thankfully-bloodless head, where a puffeskin-sized knot was steadily forming.

"I'm sorry!" An obviously-male voice said from somewhere near her, the apology sincerely etched in every syllable.

"It's all right," Rose shrugged, standing up again, before the boy had a chance to help her. "Oh, hey Lorcan," She grinned brightly, looking into a familiar face.

"Morning, Rose," The Scamander said, his plebeian face still holding evidence of guilt.

"Going into the hospital wing?" She asked, cocking her head to the side, slight panic mixing in her chest as she fought to remember if she closed the hangings on Scorpius's bed (He was technically still supposed to be home with his parents… that was the official story, anyway).

"Head cold," He said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Rose noticed how awkwardly he was standing, with his weight shifting back and forth on his feet.

"I'm sorry," Her maternal side was showing again.

Pushing his wire-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose, he blushed and looked down to his feet. "Not your fault,"

An uncomfortable moment passed. Rose observed that the awkward minute that passed between her and Lorcan was unexplainably different than the ones she, now less frequently, shared with Scorpius.

"I'm going to be late for Potions," Biting her lip again, she saw from her wristwatch that there was less than two minutes left to make her way halfway across the castle to the dungeons.

"Oh, sorry," He bit his lip, cerulean blue eyes not meeting hers.

The redhead grinned. "Not your fault," she said, "See you later, Lorcan,"

"Bye, Rose," She hardly heard this sentiment because of how quickly she darted away, anticipating the resounding chime of the bell that signaled she was late.

By some miracle, the bell rang as soon as she plopped down in her seat.

* * *

Scorpius's eyes itched for sleep, but his body didn't feel tired. His mind reeled as he tried to remember everything about the Transfiguration lesson the day before. Grappling for his wand on the bedside table, he planned to practice the newly-assigned spell for a good amount of the day, Conjuring and Vanishing in sequence until he could do it nonverbally. As he pressed his body back against the pillows, no longer having any inclination to sleep whatsoever, he set his wand beside his body, pulling his notebook out from underneath his bed.

Flipping through about half of the older pages, he found the date of the day prior, as well as his cursive scrawl detailing the lesson.

He didn't even notice that a worn scrap of parchment fell out of the cover and skidded across the ground, coming to an eventual stop somewhere a few centimeters off from the center of the aisle between the beds.

Furrowing his brow as he read his hastily-scribbled notes, he picked his wand up to practice the spell.

He vaguely registered the sound of careful footsteps in the background, but once his mind was focused, it could hardly be disturbed.

"Is this yours, Scorpius?" A voice asked from nearby.

Scorpius looked up from the notes again, to see a recognizable face standing at the foot of his bed. His heart dropped, as he realized that someone had caught him when he was supposed to be at home. He supposed he should find out what the Scamander boy was talking about, at any rate. "What is it?" He asked, leaning forward to look at the parchment the boy was holding.

"It looks like a list of dates," Lorcan's brow furrowed as he glanced quickly down at the paper.

His heart sank lower. "Oh yes, it is," He reached out to take it from the other boy.

After taking a final glance, Lorcan handed it over.

A cordial nod was shared between the two, and then Lorcan continued on to Madame Pomfrey.

Scorpius tucked the fragment more securely between one page and the next, praying that the Scamander didn't see that the dates were direct correlations to the full moons.

* * *

"Did you get _any_ sleep today?" Rose asked sternly, voice slightly echoing, walking into the Hospital Wing immediately after her last class of the day.

He nonverbally Conjured a petite, vibrant bluebird, which flew straight over her wavy-haired head and out the window, all while wearing an innocent, almost sheepish smile.

She rolled her eyes at his showmanship, and strode the rest of the way to his bed, once again noting how tedious it was to walk from one side of the huge room to the other every time she wanted to visit Scorpius.

"Did you see Lorcan Scamander this morning?" He asked anxiously as she neared.

"You sound stuffy." She observed, wondering if Madame Pomfrey gave him any medicine for it yet. "And yes, I did. I ran into him, and fell down."

The corner of his mouth rose. "Smooth,"

"Shut up. Why, did he see you?" Her anxiety increased as well; she sat down next to him on the bed.

He seemed nervous to tell her, as if feeling guilt. Fiddling with his hands, he said, "Well, a piece of parchment flew out of my notebook, and he gave it back to me."

Something about his behavior told Rose that there was more to the story. After analyzing his words for a moment, she slowly asked, "What was _on_ the parchment?"

"All of the dates of the full moons,"

The girl's eyebrows shot up nearly to her hairline. "Maybe he didn't notice?"

"Maybe," He whispered, "What is he?"

"Seventh Year Ravenclaw, I thought."

Scorpius's face darkened. "Then he probably noticed."

Her heart raced unpleasantly. "But, there are tons of reasons for you to be writing down the full moons, right? I mean, there's Astronomy purposes, and b—"

"Rose," He held a hand up to stop her incessant nervous babbling, "He'll figure it out, I'm sure. Let's just hope that he's as trustworthy as you were,"

Her tawny eyes were still worried, teeth nibbling on her bottom lip. What if he wasn't as nice a guy as she always thought he was? But, what if he _was_ a nice a guy as she thought?

"Wait a second… what do you mean 'were'?" Her brow furrowed as her arms crossed over her chest. The past tense form of the word greatly offended her as she finally registered it.

"'_Are_', I meant. Sorry," He rolled his eyes, the corners of his mouth finally perking up.

"Right, of course. Just don't do it again," A smile broke across her face mid-sentence.

"Notes, Rose?" He asked, seeming exasperated, running a hand through his hair in a failed attempt to keep it out of his face.

"Fine, Scorpius," She mocked his tone, leaning over into her canvas bag to pull out her notebook. As she turned some pages to find that day's date, a scrap piece of parchment fell out of the back cover.

Scorpius picked it up, and flipped it over, finding a list of dates identical to his. "What's this?" he asked accusingly, raising an eyebrow.

Seeing what was in his hand, she smiled timidly. "A list of full moons,"

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Did I ever tell you that you care too much about me?"

She beamed, and tucked a piece of auburn hair behind her ear as she bent down to continue flipping pages. "Yes, actually. All the time," Honestly, if he yelled at her to leave him alone, she'd be back again the next day. Nothing could keep her away from him… and she didn't know why.

"Well, just as long as you know." He muttered, sounding as if his lips were numb or something of the like.

Her smile only grew as she found the page she was looking for. She placed the notebook in his hands.

Rolling his eyes again, he dipped a quill in ink and began copying her loopy, girlishly-handwritten words into his own book.

* * *

Over the next few weeks, Rose kept a closer watch on Lorcan Scamander than usual. Honestly, she never paid much attention to either of the Scamander twins, only interacting with them when they came along with their mother to visit her parents. At school, both, Lorcan especially, were rather shy, not particularly popular; plus, they were both a Year above Rose, making it impossible for them to have any classes together. Lorcan was a Ravenclaw, though, which probably meant he was intelligent…

He didn't seem to be acting out of the ordinary to her… but, the disadvantage was that she didn't really know what _was_ normal in regards to him.

She unconsciously became more protective of Scorpius.

* * *

It was always a little awkward for Scorpius to eat dinner in the Great Hall with Rose. Sure, they were friends—best friends by definition by now—, but he always got the strange feeling that he was out of place at the Gryffindor table.

That's why he usually preferred when she came with him to the kitchens when they were together. Though, this was hardly any better.

There was always an oddly private feeling of seclusion, despite the always-busy House Elves around, when they ate there that both recognized but neither vocalized. They were both comfortable enough with the fact, but Scorpius couldn't help but wonder how it would look to somebody on the outside looking in…

… Good thing he never cared what anyone thought.

"You're always moodier when it's closer to the moon, you know," She pointed out on one of the lucky days when they were in the kitchens rather than the Great Hall.

He furrowed his brow at her randomly offensive statement. "Am not,"

"Yeah, you are," She smiled into her goblet as she took a sip of her pumpkin juice. "You get angry more easily."

"When?" He asked rebelliously.

Rose giggled. "Now,"

"I'm not even mad!" His irritated tone, and the fact that he was shouting, contradicted his words.

"It's tomorrow, right?" She asked, her tone somber.

He nodded indifferently as he took a bite out of his chicken.

"I'm sorry,"

"What do you have to be sorry about?" He grumbled, hating the way she sounded so guilty when she said that.

"I'm just… sorry you have to deal with it. I don't know," She shrugged, not able to find the correct words to express herself when he was looking at her so intensely.

"It's easier with you around," He looked down at the where spot was poking at his chicken with his fork, suddenly feeling overly-sentimental.

She smiled again, lifting an invisible weight from his chest that he couldn't explain. "But you like to tell me to go away anyway, huh?"

"You still care too much."

"You can count on that,"

He smiled this time, her words lifting his heart.

She suddenly sighed, swirling around the liquid in her chalice. "Why does it seem like the weeks go by so quickly?"

He smiled sadly just in time for her to catch it. "I know how you feel."

* * *

"On the bright side, it's a Friday, so you don't have to miss any classes," Rose attempted to cheer him up, or at least distract him, as he nearly jogged to the infirmary from the Potions classroom.

"I suppose," Scorpius mumbled noncommittally, his jaw clenching and unclenching repeatedly as they trekked.

She felt nervous for him as well, as much as she tried to hide it. It was apparent by now that she wouldn't be getting any sleep that night…

The tense silence between them only amplified each time they took a step. Though it would be the third full moon she knew about him, it was the first time she was walking with him to the hospital wing beforehand.

There was an intense pity rising in her chest; she knew that he was about to have to endure such a physical and emotional pain that only a select few, strong, people would be able to live through. She knew the psychological torment that went along with it, as fully illustrated in his wild eyes from the previous month's panic attack. She felt stifled by sympathy and wanted so badly to fix things for him…

Scorpius visibly relaxed, only the slightest amount, when they finally made it to the infirmary entrance.

Rose stopped at the doorway, prompting him to do so as well. Unease rising in her chest, she turned toward him.

His expression was that of a strained cool, his eyes completely betraying all of the anxiety he felt.

She had to clear her throat more than once before her voice made it up her throat. And even still, it cracked slightly as she said, "Be safe, okay?"

Something lightened in his eyes, making Rose feel just a little bit relieved.

She tentatively reached forward in an invitation, which he seemed to gladly take, stepping forward into her embrace, wrapping his arms around her shoulders tightly as she rested each of her hands on his sharp shoulder blades, resting her head against his chest.

The warm type of electric current passed between them as they softly pressed against each other; Rose tried to convey how much she wanted him to be safe in that simple gesture; Scorpius tried to nonverbally tell her that he would try… but didn't trust himself enough to make any promises.

Time seemed to be going more slowly than usual; even still, Scorpius pulled away fairly quickly, his heart pounding in his chest.

She watched him with a heavy heart as he walked through the middle walkway between the beds and step into Madame Pomfrey's office briefly. The woman quickly flurried out of the room with him in her wake, tapping her wand against a doorknob in the very back of the room that Rose never noticed. The two stepped into the room. Madame Pomfrey quickly came back out of the room, looking stressed. Scorpius stayed in the room, alone.

Tears began to well up in her eyes, the same tears that she'd been fighting to keep back all night.

Head suddenly hammering, her vision blurred by moisture seeping down her cheeks, she stumbled back to her common room in a flood of nameless and unrecognizable emotions, where she sat, feeling numb, for well over ten hours. She watched fellow Gryffindors giving her strange looks before they all went to their dorms for sleep, including Lily, Albus, and Hugo, who all, at one point or another, tried to coax words out of her, to no avail. She almost fell asleep several times, but each time she closed her eyes, she would see Scorpius's wildly nervous, fearful eyes, and hear his panicked voice insisting that he was going to somehow hurt someone without meaning to. Each time she woke up after a minute or two of unconsciousness, she would look toward the great windows in the common room, hoping for a dot on the horizon that would somehow end the night, and, in turn, Scorpius's pain.

It took her over twelve restless hours to see that dot on the horizon.

* * *

_Scorpius saw himself as if looking from above. He saw his body crudely contort into the form of a wolf. Another figure entered his view, a familiar small, curvy silhouette with short, wavy hair. _

Rose, no!_ He thought, wanting desperately for her to be able to hear him._

_She walked closer to his figure; he was standing on all fours now, an audible growl sounding from somewhere deep in his throat. _

Oh no, oh no, oh no… Merlin, Rose_ get away_!

_The girl reached her hand out, as if to pet him._

_The wolf reared back, now baring its teeth, a more vicious snarl sounding._

No… no…

_She didn't back away; in fact, she continued to walk forward toward him, the tips of her outstretched fingers barely brushing his short gray snout…_

_And he pounced._

"NO!" He woke with a start, extremely confused to what was happening. His breathing was labored and erratic, his hands balled up into fists, fingernails slicing crescent shapes into his palms. His entire body felt tight, his mind suddenly reeling with incoherent thoughts…

Where was Rose?

He whipped his head toward the seat where she usually sat to greet him when he awoke.

His tense shoulders relaxed slightly as he saw that she was sitting right there as always. She looked worried, as usual, gazing at him in great concern, conspicuously un-bandaged and unharmed.

He exhaled deeply, and buried his head in his rapidly-healing hands. "Oh Merlin…"

"What's wrong? What happened?" Rose asked quickly, but carefully.

"Just a dream," He murmured, more to himself than to her. He still felt oddly shattered, the image of him hurting Rose still replaying in his mind.

He felt the bed sink beside him as he squeezed his eyes shut more tightly.

"What happened, Scorpius?" Rose's soft voice was much closer to him.

"I hurt you," His whispered voice sounded horrified, "You were trying to help me, and I hurt you. I'm sorry,"

"Scorpius," She said firmly.

He raised his head from his hands to look at her. She had a recurring forced sort of calm authority fixed into her features, a kind that comforted him in a way he couldn't easily put into words.

"I'm okay, you didn't hurt me." She articulated every syllable.

He nodded, his breathing still a little bit inconsistent. The reality of the dream was startling and disturbing.

Her features suddenly softened, and she gently set a hand on his shoulder. "It was just a dream, okay?"

"Sorry," He said again, taking in a deep breath.

"You wouldn't hurt me anyway. I know you wouldn't." She said with a quiet conviction.

"You trust me more than I trust myself." He mumbled, taking time to loosen up his tightened muscles.

"That's not saying much, though," Her tone was somber.

He nodded just as forlornly. "True,"

At that moment, Madame Pomfrey intervened, asking for a full range of his symptoms, and ignoring Rose as usual until she was finished with her patient.

Once again reminding him that she would be in her office if he needed anything, she went back into the secluded room, closing and locking the door behind her.

The Malfoy took a quick swig of the potion she gave him for his headache, and made a face at the sickly sweet imitation-cherry flavor.

Rose, as usual, was watching him, something he noticed as he glanced toward her.

Furrowing his brow, he took in her appearance: heavily-lidded eyes, dark rings underneath, slightly bloodshot, face paler than usual, lacking its usual warmth, hair slightly mussed.

"Did you get any sleep last night?" He asked austerely.

She smiled sheepishly, "I never do. On full moons, I mean,"

Once again, he groaned at her over-dedication to him. If she wasn't careful, he would start to care for her in a way that was entirely irrevocable… "Don't you have things to do today?" He asked her quickly.

She shrugged casually. "It's Saturday. I don't have any lessons."

He shook his head. "I meant, don't you have better things to do besides spend hours in the infirmary?"

"Not really," She shrugged again.

He rolled his eyes.

"I mean, I can leave," She looked up at him, the corners of her mouth twitching.

"Go ahead," He said shortly.

"But I meant when you _want_ me to, not when you _tell_ me to," She was smiling by now.

"What's the difference?" Her clever way of using words against him was annoying him more every second.

"Well, you tell me to go away all the time, but you don't mean it."

"Yes I do," He said defiantly.

"No, not really. You said it yourself: it's easier with me around."

Once again rolling his eyes, he leaned his head back against the wall. "Well, at least go get some food… or some sleep."

"I can sleep here." She said perkily, gesturing to where she was sitting.

"In the infirmary?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I sit here every month." She shrugged.

"You mean in _this_ bed?" His cheeks tinted pink in spite of himself as realization dawned on him.

"Sure, why not?" He noticed a slight touch of red in her cheeks as well.

"Because _I'm_ sleeping here," Antagonism colored his tone.

"Oh, I trust you not to grope me in my sleep," Rose waved her hand passively.

He rolled his eyes again.

"I trust you a hell of a lot more than Al's friend Beau Zabini, and I've slept around him plenty," She added, her words punctuated with a yawn, which she stifled with the back of her hand.

Scorpius watched with interest as she shifted her body downward on the thin mattress, lying on her side, facing him, her arms tucked neatly underneath her head.

"So," she yawned again, her face screwing up almost comically, "What do you _do_ when you're a werewolf?"

He thought about this for a moment, trying to recollect. "I don't really remember," he admitted.

She nodded understandingly, her eyes half-lidded.

"I walk around sometimes, I know that. And I sleep a lot." Though he was straining to remember, these two were the only things that he clearly recalled.

"Is it cool to have a tail?" Her eyes closed all the way this time, her voice sounding breathy.

He chuckled, as he never really considered anything about being a werewolf "cool". "I suppose. It's hard to walk with four legs, though." He remembered tripping several times the first time he tried it on his third moon.

She giggled, but didn't say anything.

He saw her face smooth out, her lips slightly part as she began to breathe more deeply.

It was so weird to have her sleep in his bed.

Did she not take into account that _he_ probably wanted to sleep, too?

_She probably noticed_, he thought, _but she just doesn't think anything of me and her sleeping in the same bed. _

Stupid, convivial, unabashed Weasley.

His knees were still drawn up against his chest, his arms lying across his knees. Suddenly feeling fatigue hit him as well, he rested his head on his arms. As he tried to coax his eyes to shut, he found himself searching Rose's sleeping face.

Expressive brow smooth, excited eyes covered by porcelain lids lined with dark lashes, mouth, always ready to argue or disprove, still and full, her breath ghosting out of her lips, hair falling around her face and fanning against the sheets underneath her… she looked improperly peaceful.

But there she was again… doing something stupid and thoughtless, demonstrating, once again, that she trusted him _way_ too much.

Because, though he was studious and honest, he _was_ a sixteen year old boy…

… And he knew what any _other _sixteen year old boy would do in his position.

He exhaled indignantly and forced his eyes shut, his face suddenly burning without his permission to do so, fists clenched against the urge to weave his hands through her hair…

Sleep came to him much more easily than expected, only to be interrupted mere moments later when he heard footsteps approaching the doorway.

Tension suddenly rising in his chest, he watched for someone.

He should've known that once some highlight was bestowed upon his life, there would be a shadow to punctuate it.

"Hello Scorpius," Lorcan Scamander greeted brightly, standing easily at the foot of his bed.

"Lorcan," He nodded, his face darkening as he felt a strange sense of foreboding.

"I see that Rose has already beaten me here," His tone was unwavering, almost artificial-sounding.

"She got here earlier this morning," Scorpius responded, feeling guarded. His hand instinctively went to her sit on her forearm in a protective gesture.

"Looks rather peaceful, doesn't she?" His wistful expression was touched by malice as he added, "Considering the circumstances."

Scorpius's heart fell several stories underground. Swallowing nervously, he angled his boy toward Rose, never taking his eyes off Lorcan's sadistically sincere smile. "Rose," He hissed close to her ear, "_Rose_,"

She woke, smiling naively. "Morning, Scorpius. What time is it?" She yawned and stretched her arms upward.

Licking his lips, he ignored her question.

"Scorpius?" Her brow furrowed worriedly as his gaze never left a fixed point. She sat up quickly, turning to see what he was looking at.

Her gasp only made the Scamander's smile widen.

"Hello Lorcan," She said, her voice slightly shaking. She unconsciously moved closer to Scorpius, their hips and shoulders now rubbing against each other, rather than brushing like usual.

"Hello Rose, have a nice nap?" He asked cordially.

"Yes, thanks," She said shortly. Scorpius felt her body tense, her legs protectively reaching her chest as well.

"I was only stopping by to ask Rose if she could help me re-do my Defense Against the Dark Arts essay," He said blithely, walking from the foot of Scorpius's bed around to the side Rose was on.

Again instinctively, Scorpius moved an arm behind Rose for security. He didn't buy the Scamander's words for a second… the boy had to have an angle.

"O-okay," She said, her voice betraying surprise as she angled her body towards his. Scorpius copied her motion, now sitting closely behind her.

"It was the one assigned a few months back, and I sadly failed it," He continued easily, now hovering close to the edge of the bed. "The one concerning," his gaze flicked to Scorpius's hard eyes, "werewolves."

Her breath sounded choked, contrary to Scorpius's indifference. He tried not to show any emotion, though dread was bubbling almost painfully in the pit of his stomach.

"And," The boy didn't wait for any response, "I knew you would be in here, and not your common room. You and Scorpius seem to be stuck together like Spellotape these days, you see, and I found this funny little piece of paper in here, coincidentally, around twenty-eight days ago."

They both stiffened at his words, Scorpius's arm tensing behind her, pulling her slightly closer to him and away from the boy.

"September tenth, October seventh, November eighth, December ninth, January fifth, February third, March seventh, April sixth…" He recited from memory, flicking back a piece of his shaggy golden-blond hair.

Scorpius was mentally chastising himself for ever writing the dates down. It was foolish, and should've never happened. If something bad happened now, it would be his entire fault…

"Photographic memory, Love," He directed to Rose's startled face, tapping the side of his head with a lightly tanned finger.

The Malfoy felt a growl forming in the bottom of his throat.

"Now," Lorcan carried on, "What do all of these dates have in common, hmm?"

Scorpius saw Rose's eyes clench shut, as if trying to fend off something terrible. Without knowing what he was doing, he lightly rubbed her lower back for comfort.

She looked at him, looking for some kind of direction. He only shook his head and licked his lips nervously, having no answer for her.

"I'm, admittedly, rather nosy, so I looked for a trend in these dates. And I saw, to my honest surprise, that they all pointed to the," he paused for dramatic effect, obviously dragging this out to heighten his own cruel sense of pleasure, "full moons,"

Rose visibly snapped her jaw shut, as if biting back some response. Scorpius just sat and waited patiently for his monologue to be finished.

"Well, this made me wonder. What would Scorpius Malfoy be doing with a list of full moons?" He tapped his chin in mock-thought. "Perhaps he has an interest in First Year-level Astronomy," He said pensively.

Scorpius shut his eyes, rage filling a pit in his stomach.

"But I know as well as anyone that that's not true. So, there obviously has to be something… else." He paused again, now pacing a few steps on either side of the bed. "A different reason. A reason that would also explain what in the _world_ he would be doing in the hospital wing the day after one of these very dates when he's conveniently supposed to be at home with his parents…" Lorcan was sounding more excited every word he spoke. "It was almost too easy." He shook his head, a wide smile on his face.

"We get it, Lorcan, you know." Rose finally cut in, her voice heavy with venom.

"Oh yes," Her tone obviously not affecting him whatsoever, "I know. I know that Scorpius Malfoy is, in fact, a werewolf."

"Yeah, join the club." Scorpius said haughtily.

"You really don't see the beauty in the situation, do you, Scorpius?" The Scamander was bouncy again.

"Beauty," Scorpius scoffed. "What beauty is there in being a werewolf?"

"There's the beauty that I now hold the safety of your secret in my hands."

Scorpius felt his heart drop again. He'd been expecting this attempt at blackmail, of course, but he didn't want to face it.

"What do you want, Scamander?" He asked icily.

"It's quite simple, really. I was thinking last night about—"

Scorpius decided that he didn't have the patience for his bullshit. "_What do you_ _want_, Scamander?" He asked more forcefully, cutting across the boy.

The boy was still pleasant. "Impatient, I see. Well, I'll get to the point. I want Rose."

Rose audibly gasped, and Scorpius's hands went automatically to her shoulders, pulling her back against his chest protectively at the same time she unconsciously backed up toward him, his heart pounding as he could only imagine what the other boy was insinuating.

"What do you mean?" He asked quietly, his voice so deadly that it caused Rose to shiver.

"I want her," He repeated smoothly. "She can be my new girlfriend."

"What do you mean?" Rose repeated Scorpius's question, her voice strained.

"I mean the whole package," His eyes glimmered with something disgustingly satisfied. "Going on dates, holding hands, spending time with me instead of _him_," He flicked his head towards Scorpius with distaste, then his smile returned, his whole face darkening instead of brightening. "Kissing,"

"No," Scorpius said immediately through clenched teeth, fighting to keep his rage down, hands clutching Rose more firmly than ever. "Go ahead and tell people, but you're not doing that to Rose."

The Scamander shrugged nonchalantly, "Have it your way, then. I can only imagine the look on everyone's faces when they find out… I wonder if it will be shock first… or maybe disgust." He was glaring daggers at the younger boy, who was doing it right back. "Anyway, I'd best be going. Goodbye Scorpius, Rose," He turned on his heel, beginning to walk the other direction.

Scorpius felt his chest tighten, his heart race, and his body begin to shake all at once in an unpleasant sensation of panic.

Rose licked her lips, and obviously felt Scorpius's reaction. "No, don't." She called out to Lorcan, her voice shaking slightly, "I—I'll do it."

The boy looked positively delighted as he turned back around to face them.

"Rose, no," Scorpius insisted, his stomach knotting at the mental image of her and him together.

"This is bigger than just me, Scorpius." She said sadly, turning to look at him.

The intense, regretful expression in her eyes caused a painful twinge in his chest; he refused to let his hands to fall from her shoulders.

"This is your secret. Your life, your family's life, and your entire reputation," She explained weakly, her voice less than a whisper, preventing Scamander from hearing her, though she knew Scorpius heard loud and clear.

"You deserve better than this, Rose. You shouldn't do this." He retaliated, fire burning in his mercury eyes.

She shrugged. "I can handle it," Licking her lips, she continued, "What I can't handle is the thought of you and your family getting hurt."

He looked intensely into her eyes, searching for anything that would reassure him… there was nothing.

"And maybe he'll get tired of me, and he'll leave me alone or something, I don't know," She attempted a smile, but only one corner of her mouth turned up just slightly.

"Don't let him do anything to you, Rose," He said, his voice near-pleading.

Her nose wrinkled up in disgust. "Trust me, I won't."

This assuaged his worry a little, but he still felt unyielding apprehension and an intense loneliness already at the thought of her not being around anymore.

She smiled softly again, and leaned forward against his chest, twining her arms around his back in a nonverbal goodbye. He used his hands that were still firmly on her shoulders as a starting point to hold her against him tightly.

"Come on, Love," Scamander's voice broke through their little reverie, and they reluctantly broke apart.

She slid off his bed a final time, stepping beside Lorcan, who'd made his way to them in the time they were speaking to each other.

"Scamander," Scorpius said commandingly as he turned to walk away, his arm looped around a very revolted-looking Rose's waist.

"Scorpius?" The boy asked pleasantly.

"Do anything to hurt her, and I swear to Merlin, you'll wish you didn't." Scorpius's eyes were deadly serious.

The Seventh Year smirked. "What are you going to do? I have your secret at my mercy."

"Some things are more important than just my secret, Scamander." The younger boy said through gritted teeth, looking straight into Rose's cheerless eyes.

"I'll keep it in mind," With a final sadistic smile from Lorcan and a longing glance from Rose, Scorpius was left alone.

As soon as they turned the corner out of his sight, Scorpius felt a strange sense of coldness, emptiness that enveloped and hollowed out all of his anger in one clean swoop.

He knew quite well that he should feel irate. He should feel a suffocating guilt. He should feel _something_.

But there, at that immediate time, there was nothing. The world was oddly silent, his thoughts eerily still. He and stared at the spot where they disappeared until he felt his head lull forward, his eyes involuntarily closing.

This time, he didn't have a nightmare about hurting Rose… he had one about losing her.

* * *

**A/N: **Now introducing: Luna Lovegood and Rolf Scamander's son: Lorcan! I was going to do a POV following him, but I decided against it. He's just the antagonist; Rose and Scorpius are the main characters. This is _their_ story to tell, not his.

Writing ten pages in one sitting ftw!

Okay, not much to say this time. _**Review **_and _**Story Alert?**_

Lessthanthree!

_KitKat Pyrophobia_


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything. Other than the books. And a few t-shirts. :D

**A/N:** Okay, this chapter is kind of long, but READ IT! It's so important!

I recommend listening to _Promise _by Matchbook Romance when you're reading this (or at least when you're reading the exposition). I didn't even realize it until I was writing and listening at the same time, but it describes Scorpius and Rose's feelings perfectly.

* * *

_"What seest thou else In the dark backward and abysm of time?"_

The Temptest, Act 1 Scene 2

* * *

It was hard for Scorpius _not_ to notice that Rose wasn't around anymore.

It wasn't like he didn't _see_ her anymore, because her being with Lorcan didn't somehow take them out of their mutual classes, but the fact that she wasn't there to pester him anymore during dinner or after class was something that was painfully notable. He could somehow _feel_ that she wasn't with him: an odd crawling in his skin and a hollowness in his bones.

The hardest part was trying to stay friends in the midst of everything. They attempted to talk during classes, before and after the actual lessons, but both could sense a detachment between them. There was less laughter, less fun because Scorpius _knew _he was causing her unhappiness, and she knew he felt that way.

Scorpius, after a lull in emotional sense, felt the guilt and pain hit him all at once. It was harsh, and suffocating, and pressed an invisible weight on his chest, threatening to push all of the air out of his lungs every time he took a breath. The only thought that passed through his mind for hours on end was, _This is my fault. She's going through this because of me_. When he saw her, he saw a visible emptiness behind her eyes, like her usual spark was missing, like her usual bright smile was somehow forced.

_This is my fault_.

He knew he shouldn't have really felt so lonely without her… he'd been a recluse, a happily-solitary person for over sixteen years, but he couldn't help it. He never realized just how much he enjoyed her company until she wasn't around anymore. Though he tried to scoff and blow it off every time the thought struck him, he missed her.

A lot.

Time seemed to pass much more slowly when he was so unhappy. The three weeks in between the full moon and the first day he began to take the Wolfsbane Potion (he hardly counted by months anymore… only full moons) were the slowest ones of his life, save for the ones spent in the gurney in St. Mungo's. He tried to kill the time by diligently studying, just like he used to do before Rose disrupted his lifestyle, but, while in the library, he always found himself glancing towards the empty seat she would, before, routinely occupy beside him. When he gave up on the library and retired to his dorm room to read and re-read his notes, he found himself absentmindedly staring at the notes she'd copied into his notebook when he was asleep in the hospital wing. He came across himself, despite his problems admitting to it, smiling down at her loopy handwriting, thinking of her when she wasn't there.

Three months before, he would've given anything for her to leave him alone. Now, he would've given anything to get her back.

Days seemed longer, dinner with the House Elves seemed lonelier, even Wolfsbane seemed to taste worse when she wasn't with him anymore.

And the full moon was the worst.

It crept up on him teasingly slowly, the ill-stricken days before doing nothing to make the countdown less abhorred.

The walk to the infirmary wasn't as restless as it was numb. The nerves were there—they never went completely away—, but they were buried underneath the crushing knowledge that Rose wouldn't be there to console him when he awoke.

_Merlin, I'm needy_. He berated himself as he turned down the hallway.

He froze, all feeling draining from his body into a puddle by his feet.

There, standing only a few convenient feet away from the entrance to the resented room, was the person he wanted to see the least in the world, and the one he wanted to see the most.

Lorcan had his short arm around Rose's slight shoulders in a way that made Scorpius's blood burn and a certain rage rise up in his chest. They were facing straight towards him, their expressions contrasting so much that it was almost comical, Rose's being scared and apologetic, Lorcan's being exaggeratedly gleeful.

Scorpius clenched and unclenched his fist a few times in an attempt to get feeling back into them. Resolving to attempt to ignore Lorcan completely, he locked his eyes with Rose's as he walked to the infirmary door.

Just seeing her caused his anger to subdue. Seeing the Scamander's stocky figure so close to hers made it flare back up, leveling the negative emotion to a borderline-controllable amount. He tore his eyes away from Rose's, leaning forward on the door to the Hospital Wing.

"Beautiful night, eh Scorpius?" Lorcan chortled.

His eyes squeezed together involuntarily, and he bowed his head against the stone blockage for a moment, trying to bite back a venomous response. He didn't want to give the bastard the satisfaction of knowing that he got under his skin… that's how he always fought bullies before.

With a final glance at Rose, who now looked just as irate as he felt, he pushed open the door and sauntered in easily.

Just inside the door, he unwillingly stopped again, noticing that he was standing in the same spot he was the month before, when Rose hugged him so warmly. If he closed his eyes and concentrated, he could almost feel her against him again…

And when he opened his eyes again, he would see that she wasn't really there.

Sighing partly because the fact that he was about to become something other than human, and partly because he found himself being so pathetic, he peeked his head into Madame Pomfrey's office, knocking on her doorframe simultaneously.

"Is it that time already?" She asked wearily.

He solemnly nodded, making his way to the doorway.

She unlocked it for him, even though he knew the spell she used was a simple _Alohamora_.

They walked in together, Scorpius immediately taking his usual spot in a bit of soft, worn grass near the back corner of the room.

The woman silently asked him the same question she did every month. _Do you need anything?_

He shook his head and murmured a "thank you", all while tensing his body, awaiting the worst, anger still shaking his body from head to toe.

And this month, it really _was_ the worst.

* * *

Rose's leg bounced restlessly, her nose buried in a heavy volume, her fretful eyes darting to the window after every three words she read. The full moon shone ostentatiously through the decorative glass, showing no signs of making room for the morning sun anytime soon.

Chewing her lip nervously, she tried to go back to reading to pass the time. It was only half-past midnight, and she was already about to rip her hair out with stress.

She knew that Scorpius was in the hospital wing, behind that door. She didn't know what he was doing, how he was feeling, or what he was thinking. Was he now in his wolf form?

It wasn't her idea to go to the infirmary just before he got there; it was Lorcan's. If she had her way, she would've been alone to see him off in the same fashion she did the month before, not by some maliciously insensitive comment made by the Scamander. But what was really going her way anymore?

After a month of his constant presence (the boy _loved_ to parade her around as if she was some shiny new toy), it was easy for Rose to come to the conclusion that she _hated_ Lorcan Scamander. Even if he wasn't constantly mocking Scorpius and playing with his mind, in the exact same way the Malfoy was bullied until Third Year, she would've still hated him. His personality was, simply put, atrocious. He was full of himself, and loved to talk about how great he's done in his life so far (though he did nothing important, in Rose's opinion). His friends were almost just as bad as he was, and get three or more boys together whose testosterone levels were too high to be natural, and their egos too big to be bearable, and you get the most _boring_ conversations ever spoken.

Thankfully enough (in an odd, backwards sort of gratitude), Scorpius wasn't around them much, which stopped him from seeing the boy relentlessly draping himself all over her. He loved to put his stupid, heavy arm around her shoulders or her waist, or any part of her he could reach, really, though he learned better than to try to touch her anywhere inappropriate when she hexed him so severely once that he spent a night in the hospital wing. He was disgusting, to say the least.

Rose was, by the full moon, seriously regretting taking him up on his blackmail condition… but, it was all for Scorpius.

Scorpius…

There were no words to properly express just how much she missed him. The few hours they had together during class in the day were now the highlight of her life, rather than only a few weeks before, when there were too many highlights of her day to choose just one time when she was happiest… though, that could easily be summed up as: she was happiest when she was with Scorpius. It was funny, how just the thought of something he said or did could make her smile in the middle of her misery. It wasn't funny, however, how it felt like someone was tearing holes in her stomach when she thought that she wasn't going to be able to see him, at least for a while.

Since Lorcan's unsaid, but obvious, jealousy for the boy was remarkably high, she was basically forbidden to spend time with him outside of class, the blackmail constantly hanging over her head. Still, she made the best of her time with Scorpius, while at the same time getting her schooling done. They talked, though it was awkward, like when they first became friends, because she could see the flash behind his eyes that said, loud and clear, that he blamed himself for everything that was happening.

Days and days and days passed in a gray blur, the only pinpricks of color being the two-minute conversations they would have before and after lessons, and the bits of time she got to spend with her family, away from Lorcan Scamander.

The March full moon was on a Tuesday, which allowed Rose to stay up all night in peace (figuratively), with students tired from Monday, wanting to be up and ready for Tuesday. The Gryffindor common room was completely empty, save for her, and Lily Potter, who was trying to finish an essay that she "completely, totally, sincerely forgot about, Professor!", and was allowed to turn in late. Luckily for her, Rose, though distracted, knew all of the material being covered from two years previous, and helped her whenever a question arose.

"Hey, Rosie?" The young Potter asked from her spot on one of the sofas, resting her head on the armrest, looking at her cousin in one of the armchairs by the fire.

"Hm?" Rose glanced to the window again. Still moon.

"Why are you dating Lorcan?" Lily asked carefully.

Rose's heart froze momentarily, hating that she was about to have to lie to her cousin. "Because I like him," She said, too stiffly to be really believable.

"You don't _look_ like you like him,"

"What do you mean?" She pretended to be offended.

"When you're together, I mean. You always look like you'd rather be someplace else," Lily, though slightly ditzy at times, was always observant.

_That's because his damn arm crushes my shoulders…_ "I don't know what you're talking about,"

The other girl didn't seem to hear what Rose just said. "Well, I guess my _real_ question was," Lily paused, biting her lip momentarily, her eyes shining, "Why him, and not Scorpius Malfoy?"

Rose's heart gave an odd jolt, and she had to fight tears from rushing to her eyes and down her cheeks. "I told you, me and Scorpius aren—"

"I'm not suggesting anything," Lily held up her hands in defense to her cousin's sudden acidic tone. "I just always thought you looked happier with Scorpius, and not Lorcan, is all,"

_That's because I _was_ happier with Scorpius… so much happier…_ Rose opted to just shrug her shoulders to avoid having to answer her cousin. Thankfully, Lily decided, with a pout, to drop the subject.

Rose glanced toward the window. Still the moon.

* * *

_I don't know how James does this all the time_, Rose thought to herself as she walked cautiously down the creepy, nighttime hallways of Hogwarts, feeling jumpy and nervous, as if any moment someone would pop out of the shadows and deduct fifty points from Gryffindor and revoke her Prefect badge…

Ever the schemer, she was out past bedtime the night after the full moon to go visit Scorpius.

Her footsteps echoed off the stone, making her wince, nerves rising further and further into her throat until she could hardly breathe. Every time she got a step closer to the curve at the end of the hallway, where she knew that the infirmary door was only feet away, it seemed to take three steps away from her.

Shallow breaths and pounding heartbeats marked the time between one tense moment and the next as the door gradually, painfully slowly, grew closer and closer.

Her sweaty hands felt tingly against the cool stone of the door when she carefully pushed it open.

She visually flinched as the hinges sounded with a high-pitched squeal.

Taking in a deep breath, she paused momentarily and told herself that it was worth it before pushing the door the rest of the way open.

She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, and smiled for the first time all night, when she saw the easily-identifiable, even in the near pitch-black darkness, lump on he furthest bed from the entrance.

Not paying attention, fixated on Scorpius's sleeping form, Rose let the door slam carelessly behind her.

Her heart stopped, breath choked in her throat. She froze in the middle of a step, listening for any sign that she'd woken Madame Pomfrey.

A light flicked on in the woman's office, which instantly made Rose's worst fears become reality.

Unable to move, dread settling on her like icy water trickling from head to toe, she prepared for the woman to take at least fifty points from Gryffindor.

A flustered-looking Madame Pomfrey came out of her office in a dressing gown, her hair falling around her shoulders in an unkempt fashion, wand aloft in front of her. Her _lumos_ spell eventually found the immobile girl standing near the entrance of the hospital room.

Rose's eyes were about as wide as Quaffles, dread evident in them.

Madame Pomfrey opened her mouth to speak, her brow furrowed severely.

The frosty feeling in her stomach never left the younger girl as she tensely awaited the verdict.

A sigh was emitted from the older woman, who dropped her arm, shaking her head solemnly.

Rose wasn't able to see her expression anymore, which scared her just as much as the eerie lighting underneath her face had.

"Just stay quiet," Madame Pomfrey said so inaudibly that Rose wasn't sure she heard correctly. When the door was once again closed to her office, the light diminishing, her intentions were unmistakable.

A smile broke out across Rose's face, feeling coming back to her limbs. She felt a sudden rush of affection for Madame Pomfrey.

Her heart beating more quickly for a completely different reason now, Rose continued to stride over to Scorpius's bed.

Once there, she hesitated for a moment, hovering near his bed. He was laying on his side, facing away from her, the sheet covering the space up to his shoulders, leaving his scar to stand out ostentatiously. She bit her lip, not knowing exactly how to wake him without being creepy, considering the circumstances.

Deciding immediately that she was wasting time by contemplating unimportant things, she reached her hand forward and lightly shook his shoulder.

"Scorpius," She whispered, kneeling down beside the bed.

"Hm?" He grunted, not turning over.

"Scorpius, wake up," She said softly, shaking him again.

"Rose?" He mumbled, now swiveling his head toward her.

"Yeah, it's me," A small smile ghosted on her lips; she looked intently at his bleary eyes.

"Oh," He said, still half-asleep, rolling onto his back. "Hey,"

Her tense eyes softened, and she got off her knees. "Move over,"

This gentle command seemed to register something in him, and he blinked his eyes a few times before sitting up and scooting over.

She climbed onto the bed, covering her pajama-laden legs with the sheet.

"What are you doing here?" He asked quietly, nervous eyes darting toward Madame Pomfrey's office.

"Making sure you're okay," She responded, once again looking at him, as if trying to re-memorize his features.

"I'm fine," He responded hastily, "Rose, if you get caught—"

"She knows I'm here," Rose cleared up for him, gesturing toward the Healer's office.

This seemed to confuse him, but he didn't question it. Instead, he asked, "What time is it?"

"Somewhere around three," Shrugging, she seemed nervous, too.

"You have class tomorrow," He scolded.

"I know that, but I—" She swallowed a sudden lump in her throat, fighting to keep her voice from breaking, "I wanted to make sure you were all right,"

He shook his head, his eyes downcast. "I'm okay, just tired,"

"I didn't just mean about the full moon, Scorpius," She said slowly, carefully looking at him.

He looked back up to her with an odd, rarely unrecognizable emotion in his eyes. "It's…" Seeming to fight for the words, he paused for a moment, "Harder than before. But I've been alone for most of my life. I'm used to it,"

Tears gathered behind her eyes as guilt rose in her chest again. "I'm sorry. I'll find a way to get Lorcan away, I swear,"

"Rose, it would almost be worth it to have everyone know if it meant having you back," His jaw visibly clenched and unclenched.

Her breath caught in her thick throat momentarily, trying not to let tears spill over due to the gravity of what he just said. "Priorities, Scorpius. Me, or you and your family's reputation," She said sadly.

He sighed, and looked downward. "Priorities, Rose. Me and my family's reputation, or you having to deal with Lorcan Scamander every day,"

The edges of her lips turned up. "He _is_ terrible," She agreed, "But you're more important,"

Shaking his head again, he looked back up at her. "I'm sorry you have to do that. It's my fault,"

"Not directly," She tried to seem as bright as usual, "And I wouldn't be mad at you for it, anyway."

"You should hate me," His breath caught up in his throat, and a coughing fit ensued, dry but violent and painful-sounding.

She hated having to sit there, helpless, while he was obviously in pain. Looking around frantically, she spotted an empty goblet on his bedside table. She Conjured some water and offered it to his shaking hand.

Scorpius drank it in a swift gulp. His breathing was still labored and erratic, but better than before.

"The cough is back," He pointed out the obvious.

"I see that," She said weakly.

"Have you been up all night?" He asked suddenly, brow furrowing.

She nodded sheepishly.

"And last night?"

Another nod.

"Rose, this isn't healthy," He reprimanded her.

"Well, excuse me if I can't sleep while I know my best friend is suffering!" Her usual temper resurfaced quickly.

He smiled softly, avoiding her eyes. "School is more important,"

"I beg to differ," She mumbled, looking down to her twined hands.

"It's just the full moon," He shrugged, "I can handle it,"

"It's just sleep," She mocked his tone, "I can go without it,"

He shook his head.

She did the same, but leaned forward toward him, wrapping her arms around his back, underneath his, which did the same.

He flinched slightly as she touched him.

She recoiled, looking worried. His hands, once again unconsciously, lingered around her, keeping their bodies close.

He didn't do a very effective job of discreetly checking on a bandage across the sides of his ribs, wrapping around to his back.

After glancing to his eyes for a moment, she inspected the bandage, which was bloodstained and severe-looking.

"What happened?" She asked softly.

He clenched his jaw. "Biting or scratching. I'm not sure which,"

Her heart shattered. "Why?"

"He made me angry, I guess." His eyes were downcast again. "Like I said, knowing you're with him makes it all the more difficult,"

Tears, once again, threatened to spill over her eyes. She repositioned her arms to loop around his neck, and buried her head in the crook of her elbow.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her breath fanning against his scar. "I'll figure this out, I promise."

His response was to tighten his hold on her for a second, before loosening it considerably. "You need to go to bed, Rose," He said, his eyes unfocused.

Her arms still resting on his shoulders, she searched his face for any emotion, but found it to be completely void, almost scarily so.

"I'm sorry," She apologized once more before moving off the bed. "G'night,"

"Night, Rose," He said hollowly, avoiding her eyes.

Turning around to walk out of the hospital wing, she felt her body become incredibly heavy.

It only took her to the doorway, where she looked back to see him laying away from her again, to begin crying, and to the common room to feel exhausted enough to fall into a dreamless sleep as soon as she collapsed onto her bed.

* * *

Scorpius should've known better than to get his hopes up about anything concerning his lycanthropy.

The month previously, Madame Pomfrey said something about him building up a tolerance for the post-moon sickness, so he thought that, by now, he'd be out of the infirmary in a day or less.

That wasn't the case.

Everything about this moon was worse than any before. He felt exponentially more ill in an array of unpleasant ways every day. Every time he slept, he awoke in a cold sweat, not remembering what in the world he was dreaming of that made him so terrified. Sleeping, waking, and then seeing that he was alone in the room… it was miserable.

His bite/scratch wound, it turns out, was much deeper than he anticipated. Apparently, he was angrier than he thought he was. The cut breached layers of his skin, jutting into his waistline and grazing the surface of his ribs, almost a full three inches deep. Ragged, ugly, painful… it didn't heal as quickly as he expected it to. It was Saturday by the time it fully scabbed over and stopped bleeding.

His days were split between sleeping and pondering what they were learning in class, and how he was going to get the notes.

Okay, so _maybe_ his thoughts were reserved _only_ for class…

But he tried to keep his mind off Rose as much as possible.

Somewhere around midday on Friday, he had a dismal epiphany, and realized that this was a _good_ thing.

It wasn't good, of course, that Rose had to spend time with Lorcan Scamander, but it was good that she was spending time away from him. Though his own selfish wants told him otherwise, she shouldn't care about him enough to sneak out of bed in the middle of the night to come visit him. She shouldn't visit him at all, honestly, because she didn't need to worry about him. This friendship was unhealthy for Rose. She took it upon herself to worry about everything he did or felt, when he told her not to.

Having this time away from her would help her become unattached…

… as much as it killed Scorpius to think of her never being around again.

* * *

Rose, to Scorpius's both dismay and relief, didn't visit him again after that. Though he secretly spent the entire time he was in the hospital wing (through Sunday night) wishing she would come wake him up for a meeting in the middle of the night, she didn't. He knew fully well that she was only doing this because he asked her to, but a big part of him wished that she would ignore him.

Merlin, he was selfish.

After that Wednesday night, their lives went back to how they normally were at that point. They attempted to speak to each other as friends, to no avail, and both pined for each other's presence when they knew it wouldn't happen.

Lorcan was still a total bastard, his status having moved up from "nuisance" to "bully", which was the highest, most horrible dishonor in Scorpius's book. When the boy saw him now, he wouldn't only make some snide comment about Rose, which Scorpius did his best to ignore; he would now send some hex or another his way, which the Malfoy expertly deflected with a nonverbal Shield Charm.

Instead of thriving in class, which he expected to do now that there was nothing to distract him from his work, his grades began to steadily meet their downfall, his high O's moving to E's in the short two-and-a-half gap in between his time in the hospital and the first day he drank Wolfsbane.

Though he tried his hardest to block out any thoughts that were unpleasant, his automatic defense mechanism, there were times that he spent hours thinking of ways to get him and Rose out of their situation… everything seemed to bubble down to one thing:

Tell everyone he was a werewolf.

At this point, when he was more despondent than he'd been since the end of summer, Scorpius honestly thought of it as an option. He no longer cared what people thought of him and his afflictions, since they were _his_ business.

Then, he remembered that his family was still rebuilding their reputation after the War, and he would scold himself for being so self-centered as to not think of their lives as well as his…

Because, how much of a deterrent would it put on their budding social recovery when the Wizarding World found out that they were harboring a monster as a son?

There were times when he just wished he would fall asleep and not wake up for days, just to escape the misery that was reality. Everything seemed dull and lifeless now, as if someone was purposely shielding the light that shone on the world. His vision and his mind fogged with uncertainty and desolation that he was helpless to stop… he wanted everything to be done with, to be over.

He wished he'd never spoken to Rose Weasley in the first place…

… Even though she was the only thing bright in his world by now.

* * *

"Lorcan, it's a Thursday, you shouldn't be drinking," Rose scolded the boy as he raised a bottle of firewhiskey to his lips for another long, unpleasant swig.

"Live a little, Rosie," His words were already more than a little slurred by the gulp that marked the halfway mark on the bottle. In any other circumstance, he wouldn't be drinking on a school night. But when one of his best friends, and dorm-mate, handed him a bottle for consumption in a secluded corner of the Ravenclaw common room, there was no passing up the peer pressure.

"Thas the spirit, Lorcan," The tipsy other boy ambled awkwardly from his position on the floor to the stairs, where he tripped more than a few times before getting to their shared dorm.

"Lorcan, I'm going to my dorm." She said sternly, standing briskly from her seat, much too close to the boy for her liking, and striding over to the entrance to the room. It may have been the deal that she would "hang out" with him, but she had a firm distaste for drinking, especially on school nights.

"Rosie, wait!" He was surprisingly nimble even under the influence of the alcohol, catching up to her halfway down the hall.

She didn't slow, only grinding her back teeth together. In a way, this was the perfect situation for her. When the boy became too drunk to function, thus passing out, she would have time to get to Scorpius's side in time for the full moon…

… so maybe this time, he wouldn't chew a hole in his side.

Rose was nervous, of course. Extremely so. But, the sight of the boy so forlorn and torn up over the past months was enough to cut her in two and shatter the remains. He was never good at hiding his emotions from her… his eyes screamed out what his mouth didn't dare to: he was depressed. And he missed her.

This was reciprocated tenfold.

That notion was what caused her to speedily walk down toward the hospital wing the night of the full moon. The sun was near setting by that time, and she knew he was probably in the room by now… it was just a matter of _her_ getting in…

"Rosie!"

"What, Lorcan?" She turned on him, irritation etched in every crevice of her face. The portraits around them in the hallway watched their quarrel interestedly.

His eyes were unfocused, a sort of goofy smile spreading across his face. "You… you are," The words were drawn out, his brow furrowing as he seemed to be fighting for words.

Rose gritted her teeth again, tapping her foot in anger as she crossed her arms.

"You… you are beautiful, Rose," He began moving toward her again.

Her eyes did a quick three-sixty, and she stepped back at the same rate he stepped forward. Dealing with his drunken antics weren't on her agenda.

"And I—I always loved you," He nodded his head enthusiastically with the confession.

"Okay, Lorcan, I'm leaving now," She said stiffly, unsympathetically.

"But you never loved me. Nope, never did." His continued, face became glum, "You—you always liked Scorpius Malfoy instead," He all-but spat the name.

"Yeah, I did." She stopped moving when he did.

"I know why, too," He went on. Even in his inebriated state, he seemed to enjoy speaking.

She sighed, knowing he wasn't going to stop talking; she hated standing idly in the middle of a random hallway when Scorpius was in danger of himself and his emotions.

"He's rich, and—and he's good-looking, and he's g—good at everything," Wild gestures punctuated each of his words.

Rose tried not to feel pity for the boy. Though he was now revealing his motives behind everything, it didn't stop the fact that he was still _doing_ them.

"And he—e could have… anyone that he wanted." He nodded again, "But he—he couldn't choose someone else… no. He _had_ to choose my—my Rosie!"

"I'm not a possession, Lorcan,"

The boy seemed not to hear her, though he remained looking straight into her eyes, "And he got you, too! You fell for him in—stead of me. Even though! Even though I saw you first," He was swaying side to side now, as if about to fall any moment.

The girl sighed, rolling her eyes again. She could sympathize with him, she wasn't completely heartless, but that still gave him no right to use her now.

"And now, I have my Rosie. Not him, no. _I_ have you, even though you still doesn't want me back." His words were becoming more and more jumbled in between hiccups and swigs from the bottle still clutched in his hands.

"Go back to the common room, Lorcan, and go to bed, okay?"

"But, I'll miss you, Ro—Rosie!" His eyes widened, and he began walking toward her.

"I'll come back later, just go to sleep," She said harshly, indifferently.

"Promise?" He only advanced toward her more, the alcohol potent in his breath.

"Yeah, just go." For the sake of her morality, she crossed her fingers behind her back. That way, she wouldn't _technically_ be lying to him.

"All right, my love," He said breathily, and turned on the spot, stumbling back down the hall.

She didn't even wait for him to make his way halfway down the hall before she began to sprint toward the hospital wing. A quick glance out one of the windows showed her that dusk was settling in heavily, the last peek of sun almost disappearing on the horizon.

_Oh Merlin, I hope I make it on time_…

Stress permeated every nerve in her body, almost making her cringe. Sudden adrenaline numbed the burning stitch in her side as she ran, blurred out any faces she passed in her frenzy. The only sound she could make out was her heart pounding in her ears, so loud it almost cracked through the sound barrier.

Rose wasn't really sure how this was going to play out; she knew that she was going to go to Scorpius's room, and she was going to stay with him as he transformed.

But what would happen once he was a wolf?

She couldn't honestly say that she wasn't scared. Though it was known by now that everything written was generally anti-werewolf, she couldn't help certain phrases from texts standing out in her mind as she continued her unfaltering stride to the infirmary.

"… _extremely dangerous_…"

"… _uncontrollable_…"

"… _not to be in human company_…"

"… _natural predators_…"

Somehow, none of this mattered. Impulse was more important now, and her heart was telling her to go to Scorpius's side…

She _did_ love him, after all…

Rose took more care than before to keep the door quiet as she subtly burst into the vast room. Despite Madame Pomfrey not objecting to Rose's midnight escapade, she doubted greatly that the woman would approve of her staying in the same room as him when he transformed…

Wishing she knew a strong Disillusionment Charm, her heart closing in her throat, she crept through the room with an uncharacteristic quiet.

Tension was so thick around Rose that she could hardly breathe.

By some miracle, Madame Pomfrey didn't catch her on the way to the door in the back corner of the room.

Rose pulled her thin wand out of the waistband of her short-legged-sweatpants (complete with Chudley Cannons logo on the side). Eyes darting around nervously, she pointed it at the doorknob, and, more quietly than she thought was possible, murmured, "_Alohamora_,"

A small _click_ was lost underneath Rose's sigh of relief that the one-in-ten chance that the spell would work did.

Pushing the door open carefully, she stepped into the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

"Scorpius?" She asked the trembling vision of a person huddled in the corner of the huge, open room including patchy grass on the ground and a single barred window in the topmost corner of the vaulted ceiling.

An almost-exaggerated gasp was heard, and the boy's head snapped up. "Rose? What are you doing here?"

She crossed to him in a few hasty running steps. "Keeping you company,"

His eyes were wide and panicked, arms paled with strain against his tightly drawn-up legs. "It's not safe, Rose, I could hurt you!"

After kneeling down, she moved to sit closely beside him, shoulder-to-shoulder in the same manner they spent almost every full moon. "I trust you, remember?"

"I don't!" He protested, terror evident in his eyes.

"Don't worry about me," She said firmly, "Just make sure you don't hurt _yourself_ again," Her hand stretched to his side, her fingers laying against the spot where she knew he bit or scratched himself the last moon.

At the mention of self-harm, his hand unconsciously moved to his new scar on his side as well, resulting in his hand laying over hers… neither of the two made any indication that they were going to move their hands any time soon. In fact, Scorpius's fingers acted of their own accord, moving to lace their fingers together against the edge of his bare torso.

Anticipation was almost killing Rose as they stayed silent for what seemed like forever…

… then, Scorpius winced, his eyes squeezing together.

She started, better locating herself to see his face.

A small, strangled groan sounded from the back of his throat, and his breathing began to come in more labored beats.

Not knowing what to do to help him, feeling helpless herself, she squeezed their hands together more tightly.

"Rose… not safe," He panted out before cringing and throwing his head back against the wall with a sharp _thud_.

"I'm not going to leave, Scorpius," She said, her tone final and almost desperate.

His hand was now squeezing hers so tightly it was almost painful to the girl… but she knew this was nothing compared to what he must've been feeling.

It was almost frightening, how immediately it all happened.

One moment, Rose was repositioning herself to where she was sitting somewhat behind him, cradling his convulsing body against hers, her hand never leaving his. She was comfortingly running her hand from the front of his hair to the nape of his neck, knowing fully well that this probably wasn't doing anything except supporting her own sanity.

The next, he was gulping in frantic gasps of breath, his teeth evidently grinding against each other in his mouth as tiny shimmers appeared on his body.

At first, Rose just thought the shining spots were beads of sweat surfacing on his skin…

But as they began to grow, she could see that they were white and silver _hairs_ breaking the surface of his skin in an obviously-painful manner.

Her mouth gaped open. She suddenly felt extremely nervous, and reckless… she never really thought any further than just making her way into the room, but now, this was _really_ happening. He was actually transforming right there with her…

She, before, was never dumb enough to go around a transforming werewolf; she knew as well as anyone how dangerous they were. But, at that point, she also knew that this wasn't just some random, bloodthirsty animal. This was Scorpius, the person she knew and loved.

"Rose," He huffed again, his head pressed backwards onto her shoulder, darkened gray eyes searching hers, "I don't want to hurt you,"

"I know you don't," She whispered soothingly, despite her own panic rising to an all-time high, running her hand through his hair again.

A sound halfway in between a groan and a whimper sounded from the boy as his body began to visibly contort…

It was sickening to watch, the human body warping like that, plus the signs obvious on his face as it screwed up against the pain…

Rose felt oddly shattered and fragile. She squeezed her eyes shut to block out the image of him in so much pain…

In the few moments that her eyes were shut, though they felt like hours in both of their minds, his body changed from that of a human to a wolf.

Almost terrified to look, Rose hesitated to open her eyes as she no longer felt his warm skin against her chest, his hand clenching hers, but a plane of warm _fur_ lying across her lap, the hand against hers moved downward to the ground, changed into a padded paw…

She opened one eye only a slit, peeking at Scorpius in her lap…

Then her eyes snapped open in wonder.

He was a _beautiful_ creature.

His white fur mirrored the color of platinum usually on his head, speckled with gray in some places, creating an almost shadowed-snow effect. The fur itself was thick and luxuriously soft, lying back against his body in the same pushed-back groomed fashion as his usual hair. He looked healthy for the type of animal, his snout long and almost elegant-looking, his body sloping at nice angles, his tufted tail characteristic.

And despite the fact that his face and body were now unmistakably that of a wolf, his eyes were indefinitely _his_. The slate gray color was unchanging, the fearfully honest expression in them instantly recognizable.

"Scorpius, you're a really pretty wolf," She whispered to him brightly.

His eyes never unlocked with hers as she cautiously raised her hand from the ground, and settled one into the sleek fur of his back. She slid it down the length of his back, from the nape of his neck to the edges of his ribs, where she felt the raised scar that he created. The hair underneath her fingers was easily the softest thing she'd ever felt.

While silently savoring the feel of this, she noticed that there was a certain weight missing from her shoulders… all tension that had risen in her was gone by now, replaced by near-amazement and happiness that the worst was obviously over. His breathing was still at a quickened pace, his chest rising and falling rapidly against her legs, but there were no visible signs of pain.

"You still know who I am, don't you?" She tried him.

He responded by raising his head, and nodding.

She held back a giggle at how odd it was to see a wolf nod. "You aren't hurting me, Scorpius," She smiled softly, acknowledging that his worst fears were not realized, for once.

The wolf adjusted in her lap, moving backwards so only his head was lying atop her thighs. After positioning himself there, Scorpius sat up, looking almost eye-to-eye with Rose.

"I wish you could still talk, though." She joked good-naturedly, looking into his strangely-human eyes again.

It might've been her imagination, but she thought she saw the edges of his mouth turn up.

Smiling in spite of herself, she reached her hands upwards, cradling either side of his lush white head. She closed her eyes as she rested her forehead against his, her nose brushing the midpoint of his snout.

"I wish you didn't have to go through that much pain to become this beautiful creature," She whispered morosely.

He made a softly whimpering sound in the back of his throat, and pressed his head back against hers gently.

Their peaceful reverie blocked out any sound of the door unlocking or opening behind them.

"ROSE, WATCH OUT!"

Wild-eyed and terrified, Rose whipped her head to the sound of Lorcan's sobered-up voice.

"Lorcan! Get away from here!" She screamed back at him, moving Scorpius's body more securely toward hers.

_Oh Merlin, oh Merlin, oh Merlin_… _if there's one person _not_ safe during this, it's Lorcan_…

The stout boy ran over toward them, only causing her sudden panic to rise further. She glanced toward Scorpius's face to see the first glimpse of animalistic instinct flash in them.

The wolf turned to face Lorcan, all of his limbs suddenly tense.

"Lorcan, just go away!" Rose cried desperately, dread filling her stomach like icy water.

"Rosie, it's not safe here! Don't you see that he's a _monster_ now?!" He said just as frantically. The alcohol seemed to have lessened its effect on him by now, his words only slightly slurred.

"I'm all right, just _go_!"

"WHAT ABOUT OUR DEAL, THEN?" Lorcan roared, his whole face reddening in rage… probably due to the fact that Rose was choosing an animal over him.

Before Rose got a chance to scream out a retort to this, a low, rumbling growl sounded, a dangerously menacing sound that chilled Rose straight to the bone, causing her to shiver.

By now, Scorpius had his body positioned protectively over her, crouched low, his lips curled back into a snarl that Rose hadn't noticed until just then… it did nothing to soothe her sudden terror.

Lorcan's eyes were the size of Quaffles, his face suddenly paper-white.

"Rose, he's going to hurt you!"

Another growl resonated, bouncing off the walls and vibrating through the ground, making the hair on the back of their necks stand up.

"Lorcan, I'm fine, just _get away_." She said, her voice strained and calm all at once, her body trembling. In all honesty, she wasn't afraid of Scorpius, since she knew deep inside that he wouldn't hurt her… she was afraid of what he was going to do to Lorcan if the boy didn't leave soon.

Before Rose had time to register what was happening, the worst was upon the three.

It was evident, by the time that it was all over with, that Lorcan must've moved to snatch Rose away, trying futilely to be the hero that she didn't want or need. At that point, an instinct-driven Scorpius must've done his best to protect what he believed needed protection…

In one swift move, Scorpius crouched low for momentum, and tackled the boy in a mix of snarls and growls and evident fury.

A blood-curdling scream sounded from the Seventh Year as a bone-chilling snarl was heard from the wolf now terrifyingly on top of him.

Rose was frozen against the wall for a split second, just enough time to see Scorpius's large paw rear back and take a swipe at the boy's torso, effectively ripping open his shirt and causing four parallel wounds on his chest.

"SCORPIUS, NO!" Rose yelled, her body feeling oddly numb as she struggled to stand up.

The wolf turned his head toward the girl for only a moment before focusing on the boy, who was now sputtering in terror and pain. He snarled again, his lips curling back to bare intimidating, sharp teeth.

"Scorpius!" She said again, almost tripping in the few steps to the pair.

"Rose, don't come near! He'll scratch you!" Lorcan screamed in alarm, averting his eyes from the wolf's momentarily.

"Shut up, Lorcan!" Her words were, once again, unsympathetic toward him. She scrambled over to Scorpius, where he was still growling atop the boy. "Scorpius," Holding the side of his face in her hand, she angled his face to where he was forced to look at her.

The boy underneath him whimpered.

"Don't worry, Scorpius, I'm fine," Her voice was gentle despite the conditions they were in, "Don't hurt Lorcan,"

A small growl escaped his throat at the mention of his name.

Rose looked at him almost reproachfully. "He's not worth the trouble, Scorpius. This is going to be hell in the morning…" She added, more to herself than to him.

With a final threatening glance toward the blond underneath him, Scorpius sidestepped from his body, sitting down only about a foot away from the boy.

Lorcan immediately scrambled to stand up, grappling at the wounds on his chest as if the shallow scratches were life-threatening. Widening his eyes once more in undiluted horror, he sprinted from the room, carelessly slamming the door behind him.

"Oh Merlin," Rose said through gritted teeth. She turned toward Scorpius again, who was now looking panicked as well, as if just realizing the gravity of what he just did. "You didn't hurt him, Scorpius, I promise."

This softened his eyes just a bit, but he still whimpered quietly.

"I have to go get him, before he does something stupid," She glanced toward the door, biting her lip.

His eyes shone with understanding.

There was nothing she wanted to do _less_ than leave him there alone… but it had to be done. Feeling antsy, she gave into impulse and leaned forward, pressing her lips lightly against the side of his face.

Eyes widening slightly at the fact that she just did that, she backed away from him, shot a final apologetic glance, and ran from the room to find the Scamander.

When she found him, after a frantic blur of a search—sprinting footsteps, shallow breaths, and terrified pleads to find him—, lying spread-eagle on one of the sofas in the Ravenclaw common room, dramatically trying to nurse his scratches to normalcy, gathering odd glances from the remaining students up late in the night, she knew that there was nothing good that could come out of that situation…

… but honestly, she knew that from the beginning.

* * *

**A/N:** I was so tempted to make a sad smiley face so many times when Scorpius was reflecting and whatnot in the beginning… :C

I tend to write a lot now in a single sitting… maybe my creative juices are concentrated to working at the most unhealthy of times… like one o'clock in the morning on a school night… :S

I love dogs. During the whole part where Rose was with Scorpius as a wolf, I was trying to resist the urge to snuggle with my Golden Retriever… :D

Kay, now I'm done ranting.

_**Review?**_

_(Story alert?)_

_KitKat Pyrophobia_


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: **Je ne possède pas.

**A/N:** Another long chapter… also quite important. :D Even though ALL of the chapters are important… contrary to my High School Musical writing days XP Quite literally, I had a 29 chapter story void of any plot whatsoever, with at least half of the chapters as fillers… it was terrible… but, in my defense, I was 11 :D

I have an important issue to address: many people have been asking me why I made Lorcan such a bad guy, since no one considers that Luna and Rolf could raise such a bastard of a guy... well, I think it's quite obvious that Lorcan has some self-esteem and jealousy issues. And I think these run deeper than just Scorpius. I kind of imagined that since he has a twin, Lysander, he might have been overshadowed in his early life. Lorcan is kind of shy and awkward, and I think Lysander would be more confident and friendly. Also, since Luna was involved in the War, he's always been exposed to the stories of what happened, and I think he knows that what Voldemort did was wrong, but was always fascinated with the concept of having control. So, as a result, when he met Rose outside of school, and saw her plenty inside, he felt strong feelings for her from the start, but knew as well as anyone that she was more preoccupied with watching or caring for Scorpius than paying attention to him. As a result, he wanted to find a way to control Scorpius and Rose's relationship, making him out to be the good guy in the situation, and leave Scorpius in the wayside. If that makes sense.

K, now that that's over with, on with the next chapter :D

* * *

_"We know what we are, but know not what we may be."_

Hamlet, Act 4 Scene 5

* * *

There was something much too still about the next morning that Rose couldn't quite place.

The April air was void of any usual rain splatters against the windowpanes or eerie whistling noises from the wind. Even in the late morning that Rose finally made her way down past the Great Hall—after willing her contradictorily exhausted and antsy body to move from its lethargic position on a plush sofa in the common room—there were hardly any people gathered for breakfast.

She hesitated near the entrance of the Hall that Friday morning, listening intently to the almost-inaudible sound of the students' early-morning conversations, straining to hear signs of any abnormal chatting between them, any sign that Scamander had spilled anything the night before…

… but there was nothing. Nothing strange, nothing that showed any signs of new rumors being spread, any fear in the voices of her peers…

Surprised more than anything at Lorcan's implied lack of actions, Rose hastened the rest of the way to the infirmary.

Despite all that happened the night before—her witnessing Scorpius distort into an inhuman being, witnessing him attacking another person, feeling the fear and emotional tension of being around him—, seeing Scorpius by the furthest infirmary wall, laying, as always, on his side away from her made her heart skip and beat and her pace quicken.

"Scorpius," She said under her breath without actually meaning to.

The figure in the last bed stirred, and made to sit up.

She stopped for a moment, flushing as she remembered he could hear her.

Across the room, Scorpius rubbed his eyes and looked her direction.

"Good morning, Scorpius," She said happily, continuing her stride toward him.

"Must you wake me so early?" He grumbled, knuckles still assaulting his eyes as he rubbed sleep away.

"Well, some of us have class today," Rose replied mock-sternly, closing the distance between her body and the bed, not hesitating to climb on.

"Go to class then; let me sleep." His voice was still rough, his tone unfriendly as always in the morning.

"You can sleep when I'm gone," Her brow furrowed, her heart giving an odd hurt pang at the fact that he didn't want her there after two months without her… she made it her priority to come visit him that morning, ignoring the fact that Lorcan may still expect her to hold up her end of the deal, and Scorpius wasn't even appreciative of the fact…

In a startlingly abrupt move, he stiffened, now-alert gray eyes widening. "What happened yesterday?"

Rose's heart fell. She was hoping not to bother him with it until after class. "What do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Rose," His tone was deadly serious. "You know I can hardly remember what happens."

"What makes you think I would know, then?" She cheeked, his attitude much too authoritative for her taste.

"Because the last thing I can clearly remember is your dumb arse coming in,"

Her eyes dropped from his almost-pleading ones to her hands.

"Oh Merlin," His voice was suddenly hollow, her reaction causing him to draw conclusions.

Rose knew that he had to somehow find out, but she didn't want him to have to worry all day. "It wasn't anything _too_ bad…" She began unsurely.

"Rose…" He warned as she paused.

"I mean," Her mouth was suddenly dry, dread weighing heavily on her heart. "You were only trying to protect me,"

"From what?" This was phrased in a manner that could in no way be mistaken for a rhetorical question.

She glanced up to see that his eyes were still boring holes in her. For an unexplainable reason, her train of thought halted unexpectedly under the intensity of his stare, and didn't recover again until she looked away. "Well," her voice was squeakier than usual, "Lorcan kind of barged in…"

His eyes pooled with terror, his whole body rigid, all color (as little as there was to begin with) draining from his face. "Oh no, Merlin, Rose, I didn't…?"

"No!" She said quickly, intending to remove the horrified expression from his face as soon as possible, "You just scratched him,"

He didn't look very relieved at this statement.

"It wasn't even bad," She tried to reassure him, even though she hardly felt confident herself.

"It was still something, though, wasn't it?" His voice was incredibly void of expression.

"He hasn't said anything about it," Her hand moved to cover his in a warm gesture.

He flinched slightly at the contact, his body becoming momentarily rigid.

She, stubbornly, didn't withdraw.

He looked down to the tile beside him, desolation filling his eyes.

"Scorpius," Employing her somewhat-routine stern, grounding tone, she forced him to look her way, "It'll be fine, okay?"

"No, it won't," Subdued panic was evident in mercury eyes as he looked at her.

"I won't let him get to you," She said quietly.

"Good luck with that," His jaw clenched and unclenched, his gaze downward unwavering.

She licked her lips at the sudden fit of nerves unleashed in her stomach.

From somewhere far away, on the opposite side of the castle, possibly, the bell rang, signaling that Rose was late for class.

Scorpius squeezed his eyes shut, his hands immediately moving to massage his temples. He'd told her sometime ago that the deep, vibrating sound was amplified more than regular sounds in his head, causing him an immediate headache every time he heard it.

She felt terrible for having to leave him alone when he looked so distressed. Biting her lip momentarily, she said, "Maybe I could just skip lessons today…"

"Absolutely not," He said automatically through gritted teeth.

Her brow furrowed. "You're not my boss." She retorted rather immaturely.

"Don't be stupid, Rose. Lessons won't stop just because you aren't there, and all I'm going to do once you leave is sleep."

His blunt tone angered her for the umpteenth time that day. "Fine, just… don't think too much, all right?" She turned a final time to face him, anger fading into some deep concern that she couldn't place.

Scorpius rolled his eyes; the side of his mouth turned slightly upward for the first time that day. Almost aggressively, he reached his hand onto her shoulder, and pulled her torso tightly against his, repositioning his arms to fold across her back in the process.

She was, above all else, surprised that_ he_ initiated the contact for once. Nerves bounced around in her stomach like gnats, something that'd never really happened in that situation before. Nearly hesitantly, she returned his hug with vigor, burying her head against the crook of his neck. Her face heated up considerably when she remembered that he wasn't wearing a shirt…

Forcefully reminding herself that she was _already_ late for Potions, she pulled back away from him, offering a feeble smile before dashing for the dungeons.

The sensation in her stomach that she could only, reluctantly, identify as butterflies didn't go away all day.

* * *

Scorpius only woke up because he heard a voice echoing around in his dream, one that was obviously out of place there… the instant he heard it, the dream (including the most off-the-wall subject matter) became a nightmare.

Brow furrowing, he squeezed his eyes shut more tightly before blearily blinking them open.

The first thing he did upon opening his eyes was blush crimson and hurriedly sit up.

Again, the thoughtless, careless, trusting Rose Weasley was doing something characteristically thoughtless, careless, and trusting by laying, asleep, in his bed dangerously closely to him, her face only inches from his when he woke.

Luckily, they'd kept their hands to themselves… how awkward would _that_ have been to explain?

When he moved, Rose responded by mumbling in her sleep and moving back toward him until she was satisfied.

Shaking his head, he brought his palm to his face in defeat.

Stupid Weasley…

"It's amazing, how comfortable she can look laying next to a monster,"

The extremely quiet voice—one that probably didn't mean to be heard at all—that caused him to wake in the first place also caused him to freeze to the bone, his body stiffening. "What do you want, Scamander?"

Lorcan, who was now sauntering (in an almost timid, discomfited sort of way) to his bed, didn't offer a familiar sadistic smirk at Scorpius's words. Instead, his azure eyes darted around in a strangely ratlike, nervous manner. "Wake up Rose," he commanded in a tone that contradicted his intentions.

Scorpius noted, in a mix of guilt, bitterness, and pride, that he seemed to have the upper hand in that situation, for once. "Why?" He challenged.

"Because I have something to tell her,"

"Tell me first, then," His voice was frigid, face openly displaying all the hatred he had built up since two full moons before.

The boy looked so terrified that his body visibly trembled. "Just… wake her up."

Scorpius raised an eyebrow in challenge.

"P-please," Lorcan added, stuttering.

The Malfoy rolled his eyes and uncrossed his arms, lightly placing one on Rose's shoulder. "Rose, _Rose_," he whispered at her ear.

She groaned, and rolled over, facing away from him.

Scorpius suppressed a chuckle. "Rose, wake up,"

"Just went to sleep, though," She mumbled.

He sent a dark look toward Lorcan, who was fiddling with his hands, eyes avoiding the pair. "Scamander wants to tell you something,"

Her brow furrowed. "Tell him to go away,"

"Rose, you can go back to sleep in a minute."

She sighed heavily, and rolled onto her back, dramatically lumbering her way to sitting up. "What, Lorcan?" she asked, still half-asleep.

The Seventh Year took in a deep breath, his eyes darting to their respective ones once before looking back at his hands. "I just wanted to tell you both," he paused, "The deal is off."

Both of their faces darkened, Rose suddenly more alert.

"What do you mean?" Scorpius asked, his voice severe.

"I mean," He glanced up, then back down, "You can have Rose back."

This seemed to confuse the redhead, who was unconsciously moving closer to Scorpius every word Lorcan said. "That's it? And you won't say anything?"

He noncommittally jerked his head, the movement somewhere in between a nod and the opposite. "I also wanted to say that I'm sorry,"

The insincerity in his words didn't deceive either of them.

After they passed a quick look between them, they nonverbally decided to leave it alone.

"Is that all?" Scorpius asked, acid dripping from his voice.

Lorcan's breath seemed to catch, so he resolved to just nod.

"All right, then," The cool reply from Scorpius did nothing to mask the deadly edge in his tone that caused Rose to shiver beside him.

With a dismissing wave of his hand, the other boy gave a final, nervously cordial, nod and nearly tripped over his own feet in his haste to get out of the room.

The door closed behind him with an echoing slam, and a tension was released from the room.

Rose shifted beside him, lying back down, as if nothing had just happened.

How the girl was even tired was beyond him. His heart was racing, his skin crawling, his mind reeling with sudden uncertainties and confusion.

"Wait," He said slowly, his brow furrowing. "That's it?"

The redhead rolled onto her back, one hand rubbing across her tired eyes. "What do you mean?" She asked sleepily.

"I mean," Scorpius was, himself, confused to what he meant… all he knew was that all of his thoughts and emotions were running wild, causing his head to hurt and his speech to slow. "What just happened?"

Her arm moved to lie fully over her now-lidded eyes. "It's over. Lorcan doesn't want me anymore,"

The blond shook his head, unwilling to accept such a quick fix to their lasting problem. "It shouldn't be that easy,"

Groaning, she rolled back over, away from him. "It's _over_, Scorpius. Just be happy for once,"

Biting his lip, still skeptical, he watched her as her breathing gradually deepened and slowed.

He knew that it couldn't be the end, but wanted just as much as she did to accept it and move on…

_Maybe I actually scared Scamander enough to make him leave_, He thought cynically, hating that there wasn't any other way he could've warded the Seventh Year off…

Sleep came to him surprisingly quickly after that. This spell of unconsciousness was short-lived and chaotic, restless sleep splayed across a storyboard of flickers of memories from the night before… Rose's comforting, his panic, Lorcan's bursting in and provocation… the terrified expression on Rose's face when he lost control… a blood-curdling, heart-stopping scream that tore through the air… the triumphant swell of euphoria in his chest at the sight of Scamander helpless underneath him…

Breathing shallow, chest tight, a clammy chill that had nothing to do with the temperature in the room coming over him, he was forced into consciousness by both irrational fear and contentment without origin.

Blinking open his darkened silver eyes, shuddering at the vague replays of the night previous, part of him wanted to know exactly what happened; another part wanted to stay in the dark about the whole thing, removing the possibility of any further pain on himself…

His brows knitted together. The hangings around his bed were pulled shut, the room dark with pale moonlight shining in.

Had he really been asleep that long?

Sitting up, confused, he looked around. Rose wasn't there, which caused an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach, partly happy and partly the contrary.

It was definitely night, late night, probably, by the way the moon was up so high amongst the stars. Around three or four, most likely.

Shrugging to himself, glad to oblige the momentary escape of reality (even though his dreams weren't much better), he made to lie back down… he was still half-asleep anyway.

Something out of place on his bedside table caught his eye.

He picked up the small scrap of parchment, holding it close to his face, having to blink his hazy eyes a few times to actually make out what it said.

"_Scorpius—_

_I went back to my dorms for the night. Last time I stayed out this late, I almost got caught by some prefects, so hopefully that won't happen. Don't worry, though. I can be quiet when I want to be._

_Sleep some more, okay?_

_Rose_"

The way the ink was still shiny and wet showed Scorpius that she had, just as she said, left extremely late. The time she was here with him could've been time she spent doing something with other people in her common room or dorm… but no, she wasted her time in the hospital wing with him again…

He felt a swell of pride at her loyalty at the same time he felt a wave of negativity that couldn't be explained in one word… or even in a few sentences.

Rose was… backward.

If anything, seeing him actually spring on another person should've made her want to stay away from him. It should've made her fear him, forced her into a reality check of what could actually happen to her if she was around…

But no. She was still, during the day, settling herself comfortably next to him as if he wasn't anything out of the ordinary, still remaining in the infirmary until the early hours of the morning while he did nothing but sleep…

This, in an entirely objective sense, was unhealthy for her. She was up entire nights with anxiety, spending entire days with him in the infirmary out of worry.

As if school life wasn't hard enough being a top student _and_ a Prefect…

Scorpius knew he really _wasn't _good for her… nothing of a good friend. Here Rose was, offering him a sense of belonging and companionship, something he'd never had in school, and he had nothing to offer her in return other than fear, worry, and hurt.

He knew, though it pained him to think it, that she _didn't _need him. She had her family (her very extended family), other, more proper, friends, and tons of various people in school that enjoyed her company. If he were to leave (in a different situation than with Scamander, of course), she would have tons of cushions to fall back on.

But he was selfish and greedy and spoiled. He wanted her around him for his sanity, since she was the person who kept him grounded and stable. In a way, _he_ very realistically needed _her_.

He'd been alone before, obviously, for his whole life. He never _needed_ any friends, family, or company to keep him (what he perceived to be) happy. Until Rose.

Maybe it was her way of completely imposing herself in his situation and basically forcing their friendship, but there was something different about her. Sure, she was annoying at times, plus there was the whole idiocy factor of her wanting to be friends even though she knew what he was. But, she was also caring, loyal, and brave enough to stand up for what he was dealt in life when she didn't know the half of it.

Rose was his best friend, even it was destructive to her. And, because of his sheer, entirely human, desire for stability, he didn't want to let her go.

* * *

Rose was still blushing nearly crimson as she laid in the Gryffindor dorm at much too late an hour. She felt exhausted and wide-awake all at once, her mind reeling at the same time she was yawning and fluttering her lids in an offbeat rhythm.

She'd stayed out much longer than she'd intended to that night… but she just lost track of time. Her face reddened further when she remembered what she was doing that took so long…

She actually woke about two hours after he fell asleep, feeling restless and alert as soon as her eyes snapped open.

Upon waking, the redhead wondered how in the world she mustered up the courage to actually lay down next to Scorpius in the first place, since she actually wasn't _that_ bold, but she was even more surprised that he responded so casually (after a bit of adjusting) to it. In fact, he'd apparently given up on trying to sleep sitting up, and resolved to lay down comfortably with her. Luckily, their bodies were still a safe distance apart, his upper-body almost completely pressed against the railing, so there really was no reason to be embarrassed… but that logic did nothing to stop the sudden rush of blood in her cheeks as she'd sat up.

It was obvious that there was no productive reason for her to stay with him while he did nothing but sleep. Rose knew that fully well, and she'd actually planned on leaving as soon as she woke up… staying out late had its consequences, and she felt like a complete hypocrite breaking such a fundamental rule when she'd spent the past two years trying to enforce it…

True, she was still incredibly tired; her body was still sluggish and rebelling against simple movements she told it to do, but her loyalty to her House, and the desire to keep its amount of points at the current all-time high, told her to get up.

But, something stopped her.

Previously, Scorpius had been facing away from her, the back of his pale head shining in the equally pale moonlight. But now, he'd turned over in his sleep, his unconsciously serene features angled toward her.

She'd seen, many times, how undeniably beautiful he was in sleep. There was such an easy illusion of peace reflected in a person so burdened, such an unparalleled beauty that was characteristic in _only _Scorpius Malfoy.

Self-control fading quickly, she'd reached out a hand and hesitantly moved a stray piece of the fine silvery-blond hair from his face, weaving her fingers gently from the roots of his hair to the ends that brushed his neck.

She'd retracted momentarily as he'd stirred, her face heating up considerably as she'd realized what she had been doing.

His movement came to a stop with a deep, breathy sigh; his head angled toward the place her hand had been before.

Smiling softly, she'd repeated the motion. He'd exhaled again and leaned into her touch.

And there'd been… something about seeing him like that, so vulnerable and undisturbed and almost _happy_ underneath the vacancy of his expression… something that kept her there, lazily repeating the motion and tracing his porcelain features with light, languid touches, for hours longer than she'd intended…

As she lay in her bed, face blazing, she still didn't know what had broken through her reverie and brought her to her senses…

But she thanked the invisible force, the pure magic of illogic lulling her into a deep sleep.

* * *

Scorpius, instead of breathing heavily after yet another nightmare, coughed up his oxygen reserve, his body soon coercing itself into an upright position, eyes burning behind taut eyelids.

The feeling of a hand placed cautiously on the damp skin of his back shocked his system. He took in a few shuddering breaths; a pain shot straight in the middle of his chest, and his throat momentarily constricted. He choked out an unsteady breath, his whole body trembling and aching.

Blinking open stinging eyes, he looked toward the figure beside him, who was looking on with an ever-worried expression.

"I'm fine," Scorpius lied in response to the unasked question, his voice gravelly and hoarse.

Rose patted her hand, which hadn't moved from its resting position on his back, calmingly against his skin. She'd been in the hospital wing since just after lunch that day, killing the time, which was now nearing dinnertime, between unfinished homework and lazily practiced spellwork.

He buried his tingling face in his hands, roughly wiping his eyes—and mind—of the constant replays of his memories from two nights previous…

"What's wrong?" She asked softly.

Still fighting away flashes of mental images, he muttered, "What happened during the moon?"

Her teeth sunk gently into her pink lower lip, her eyes darting away from his. "I already told you,"

"Tell me the whole story," He said firmly, now looking intently at Rose. "Please," He added quietly, almost shamefully pleading. There was an abstract part of his mind, an extremely anxious one, that would be put to rest once he knew the exact events of the night. There was another one that knew, logically, that he would go into another bout of self-loathing and disgust once he knew what triggered his loss of self-control.

Rose, openly discontented at the plea, swallowed a few times before speaking. "Well, this bloke offered Lorcan Firewhiskey…" She proceeded to tell the entire story from start to finish, not leaving out any information.

He mentally thanked her for such a detailed retelling, but wasn't pleased at all at what she was saying…

Rose, for one, was absurdly stupid and reckless for coming to him in the first place and _staying_ even when he was in wolf form. Did she not realizehow much risk she was at?

Especially since it was obvious now how easily he could lose control…

Shame was the most prevalent of his emotions, followed immediately by self-hate, with terror and desolation close behind.

He honestly thought, before, that he had enough self-control to prevent anything like attacking another human from happening… Wolfsbane was supposed to be his cop out, the partial-solution to his lycanthropy, the reason he didn't curl up and die when he was bitten…

But, now, he was obviously defective, or at least, he was building up a tolerance. Now, he would have to be secluded and watched even more carefully during full moons just in case he…

No. He didn't want to think about the worst that could happen. Because he knew that if anyone was to be dumb enough to come near him during a transformation again, it would be Rose. And what would he possibly do if he hurt her?

That lone thought was the main prompt for the horror he felt, weaving like a spider web, creating a frosty, weak, unpleasant shield of fear around his heart.

He then felt a bout, an uncontrollably dominant bout, of disgust in himself. His worst fears, he then understood, had been obliged.

He was a horrible, Dark monster that couldn't control his evil and animalistic urges even with the help of a potion. He hurt another person when he'd sworn he would never do that… he was a beast, the kind known and hated by society, he realized now, with good reason.

He didn't deserve happiness.

There was a different kind of forceful misery falling over him, the kind that caused the sensation of being soaked to the bone in a freezing downpour, and a literal pain in his chest like a knife piercing deeper into his lungs in unison with his pulse.

The first person he considered a true friend at school was trying to help him, and he went and ruined everything. The gripping shame overtook him once more.

This really was all his fault.

As quickly as the wave of desolation distressed him, lingering much longer than he wanted it to, it left him feeling empty, a shell of a person.

His thoughts, previously racing with reprimands of insecurity and self-hating phrases, came to an abrupt stop, his mind now feeling hollow and inept of any complete thought.

His limbs released all tension; his body visibly slackened. Despite the mental havoc just wreaked on him, he felt… relaxed almost. Like he didn't have to worry about anything, because he wasn't feeling or thinking anything anyway.

Nothing really _mattered_ anymore.

Rose noticed the sudden change in demeanor. "Scorpius?" She asked gently, half-expecting him to have another panic attack.

He raised his head toward her, the hollowness in his usually-communicative eyes shocking and scaring her.

"You didn't hurt him that badly," She said, vainly hoping to console him.

"I know," His voice was just as expressionless as his eyes. This sent a painful twinge through her heart.

"And he said he wouldn't tell," Knowing fully well that any prolonged silence would kill her, she resolved to keep talking, whether he was listening or not.

"I know," He repeated in the same lack-of tone.

"So, there's nothing to worry about," Her voice was shaking from the near-desperate effort to keep it still.

"I know,"

The two words were beginning to grate on her nerves at the same time they were causing a throbbing hole in her chest. "Scorpius?"

His empty gaze remained fixed with hers.

"Say something else, please," Rose pleaded, her hand unconsciously moving to cover his.

He stared straight at her for a few more moments, his usually-conflicted eyes looking completely void.

Her heart fell… she knew that this must be killing him… but all she wanted to do was help him.

"I—" He looked at her curiously, brows furrowing over vacant eyes. "I'm sorry, Rose."

This caused her heart to only sink further. "You're apologizing?"

"You screamed," He seemed to ignore her, some life coming back into his eyes in the form of horror and disgust. "I can remember it."

Rose didn't even remember screaming… but it must've happened, if he could remember it. "You didn't do anything to me, Scorpius."

"I scared you," His head bowed, tousled hair falling over his face, "That's something, isn't it?"

"No, it's not. I'm fine, Scorpius, I promise." She insisted.

His head buried in his hands once more. "I can't believe… I didn't mean—how could I—Rose, I'm sorry," His words were shaking, obvious hate coloring them.

"There's nothing to be sorry for. You were protecting me." She smiled in spite of herself, knowing that his intentions at the time had been pure, those of care for her well-being.

Her smile was apparently contagious, as he did the same, though weakly, in return.

"Come on, we can go get some dinner," She suggested, moving to get up. She knew that the aspect of eating always cheered up Hugo and her cousins, so boys, in general, couldn't be much different, right?

He looked reluctant, surveying Rose with uncertainty.

"Come _on_," Lightly grasping his wrist, she tugged him forward.

Begrudgingly, he shifted his body off the makeshift bed and onto the cold stone floor.

Her muscles felt tight from lack of use… she was sure his were the same way, having been lying down for quite a while. Screwing up her face in satisfaction as her body loosened up, she stretched out, facing her short-term destination: the entrance of the room.

Annoyance rose in her as the time prolonged even after she finished her stretch. She knew that she had to give him some modesty as he changed his clothes behind the screen to the rear of them, but every second he took only made her stomach growl more noticeably.

"Are you done yet?" She asked sternly.

"Yes, I am. No need to be so impatient," Scorpius responded, and she could almost _hear_ him rolling his eyes.

Turning back toward him, her face flushed again, an (she was sure) unattractive shade of scarlet exploding all the way to her hairline.

_Okay_, she told herself, trying to steady her breathing and body temperature, _this is nothing new… he hardly ever wears a shirt after the moon, remember? But he said he was finished!_

There really wasn't anything particularly provocative about what he was doing… how risqué could shrugging _on_ and buttoning a shirt possibly be?

_Merlin, Rose, you're acting like a hormonal teenager… are the fumes from the love potions __from class on Friday finally getting to you?_

She shook her head to try to clear up her suddenly-muddled thoughts, the vibrancy of the hue on her face fading, thankfully, quickly as he adjusted the collar the dark shirt.

"You're not wearing an undershirt?" She asked curiously, her voice coming out slightly hoarse.

"I don't have any here," His brow furrowed as he ran a hand through his hair. "Can you see the scar?"

Looking more closely at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, she only saw a small edge of the mark jutting out from underneath the line. "Hardly,"

His hand moved to tug up the collar again, nervously.

"It's fine," She said, more reassuringly this time.

His jaw clenched and unclenched before the tension on his face softened.

"I'm hungry, come _on_," A full smile broke out on her face, one that lit up and warmed the entire room.

His no-longer-empty silver eyes did a full three-sixty before settling on Rose's face, sarcasm filling them to the brim as a smirk tugged up the corner of his mouth.

She whipped around and began prancing toward the door, knowing fully well that he was following her without needing to stop and look back. If anything, her smile was firmly set in place because she knew she cheered him up. That look of vacancy and emptiness tore out her heart…

"Would you _slow down_, Rose," Scorpius said, his long strides eventually catching up to her bouncy ones.

"But, I'm hungry."

He sighed heavily, though both corners of his mouth were curved upward now.

"Do we have to go to the Great Hall?" He asked worriedly as they approached to crowded room, once again tugging his collar nervously.

"I wanted to tell Lily and the rest of my family about me and Lorcan's 'break up'." Rose said, bitter happiness lacing her tone.

Scorpius nodded beside her, hands still at his collar, and they walked into the Great Hall.

The first place Rose's eyes went was the Gryffindor House table, where Lily was in the middle of an animated conversation with her brothers. She grinned widely, knowing that she would finally be able to have dinner in the company of someone she _chose_ to be with.

Scorpius's eyes, on the other hand, went straight for the Ravenclaw table, where he spotted Scamander surrounded by a hearty group of boys from his same Year. He instantly recognized both Beaters and the Keeper from the Ravenclaw Quidditch team.

Though Scorpius followed Rose, he kept Scamander in his peripheral vision, not wanting to miss a single reaction from the boy… so far, there were none.

Rose unceremoniously plopped into the seat to the left of her cousin, hugging Lily happily around the neck for a moment.

Scorpius sat beside her with a more coordination. Luckily for him, they were facing the Ravenclaw table (where he was probably supposed to be sitting), Lorcan almost directly across from him, facing him.

"Hey Rosie!" Lily said, a smile carved in every syllable.

"Hi Lily,"

"Hello Lily," Scorpius said politely, resting his chin on interlaced hands.

"Hey Scorpius," The Fourth Year's grin didn't fade in the slightest as she addressed the boy. In fact, it grew wider.

Rose began to add some roasted chicken to her plate, her smile never faltering.

Scorpius's face was like stone as he continued to watch the Scamander boy for any change in demeanor. As far as he could see, he remained the cocky, one-track-minded boy who tormented him for so long. His eyes narrowed unconsciously, his mind venturing back to a few select taunts he said that actually had an effect on Scorpius…

"So are we invisible now?" James asked Rose, mock-hurt.

She laughed, the sound lightening the room's atmosphere instantly. "Sorry. Hi James, hi Al, hi Hugo,"

"Hey Rosie," The three boys chorused.

Scorpius smiled at their family bond, sparing a glance at them. Lily and Rose were on his side of the bench, James, Al, and Hugo across from them.

"So Rosie," Lily began, "What brings you to this neck of the woods?" She was obviously fishing for something to do with Lorcan.

"Lorcan and I broke up," She said, her voice betraying all of the relief she felt.

Scorpius shot her a glance to see her doing the same in his direction. He smiled briefly in spite of himself.

"Really?" Lily asked, sounding like she was forcing incredulity. The three boys across from them leaned forward interestedly. "Why?"

Rose shrugged, the ghost of a smile playing at her lips mischievously, making Scorpius's heart stutter in an odd way. "He was too… controlling."

Scorpius looked back toward the Ravenclaw table to see Lorcan staring straight at Rose. He felt something flare up in the pit of his stomach, and he stared at the other boy with pure venom. Any appetite he might've had before completely disappeared as unadulterated hate pulsed through his veins, filling his body with unfamiliarly unpleasant heat.

"He seemed that way," Lily's voice sounded, to him, as if through water. "You didn't hang out with us or Scorpius as much,"

Rose nodded in his peripheral vision.

"Why did he do that?" Albus asked, his brow furrowed.

Rose looked like she was about to open her mouth to speak, but Scorpius did so first.

"I'm not sure," An evil smirk found its way onto Scorpius's face as the Scamander's gaze met his own. Sure to articulate everything perfectly, so the boy could read his lips, he said, "I couldn't help that Scamander was so incredibly jealous of me."

This sent a chuckle around the family, Rose doing so weakly, unsurely.

On Lorcan, however, it had quite the opposite effect.

His mouth trembled with rage, his meaty hands clenching his utensils tightly, threatening to bend or break them.

Visibly deciding something, he slapped both hands on the table, standing up.

"Rose, what's he doing?" Scorpius asked, antagonism quickly fading into alarm, afraid that Lorcan was going to try to start a fight in the middle of dinner.

She followed his gaze to Scamander, her eyes widening. Her mouth opened, but no words came out.

Scamander stepped up onto the bench, his look fixed upon Scorpius, his face stone-cold.

"Rose, _what's he doing_?" He felt almost numbing pain from his fingertips to his scalp, a tingling sensation that stemmed directly from the dread he felt.

The girl tensed beside him, still looking unable to say anything. The rest of the Potter/Weasley clan was now staring toward Lorcan, seeming confused, but mirroring their fear.

Lorcan raised his stout wand and pointed to his throat, muttering something that Scorpius thought he identified as "_Sonorous_".

"Excuse me, fellow students," His voice boomed loudly throughout the Hall, causing Scorpius's head to feel like it was splitting in two, as the buzz of voices eventually quieted, everyone's attention turning to him.

McGonagall stood from her seat in the middle of the faculty table, the trademark stern expression filling the deep lines on her face. "Mister Scamander, what do you think you are—"

"I'd like to bring something of interest to everyone's attention," He cut the woman off, a shocking taboo in the students' eyes, his voice exponentially louder than hers.

_No… no no no no no no no no… _Scorpius thought over and over, eyes wide, shaking his head as the tingling sensation became almost overwhelming. In addition to that prickly feeling, a new one, one that mirrored the sense of falling from something high into a bottomless pit, erupted. His throat dried immediately, and he licked his lips, making only the slightest difference.

Smirking sadistically, obviously noticing Scorpius's outrage, he continued, "I know it as a fact that every single one of you is in great danger every month,"

"Lorcan, stop!" Rose called, now shaking beside Scorpius, bringing attention to herself. Some heads turned toward her, some remained on Lorcan, who stayed atop the bench.

Again, Lorcan ignored the interference. "I'd like to be the first to tell all of you…"

Scorpius held his breath, his heart literally stopping as his entire body felt unpleasantly numb. He knew what was coming…

"Scorpius Malfoy is a werewolf."

Feeling as if an icy bucket of water had been poured over his head in addition to the rest of the disagreeable sensations in his body, Scorpius somehow found the mobility to stand up and walk briskly out of the deathly-silent Great Hall with Rose in his wake. He suddenly felt more isolated than ever in a room filled with over a thousand people.

Scorpius could hear the ringing silence all the way out the Hall, only interrupted by the sounds of two pairs of feet pattering behind him as he continued to walk and walk and walk… there was no logic to what he was doing, or where he was going… he was going to walk until his legs gave out, and he was far, far away from the students and Lorcan and Rose…

"Mister Malfoy!" A sharp voice shot through his mind.

He stopped instantly, turning toward a very stressed-looking Professor McGonagall.

"My office, please. You too, Miss Weasley," Without waiting for so much as a nod from either of the students, she turned on her heel and began walking the opposite direction.

The three walked in an incredibly tense silence after her into the office, adorned with comfortable décor that Scorpius didn't even see… he felt like his body completely shut down in every way. He couldn't see, touch, taste, hear, feel, think… it was as if the world suddenly went… blank.

Twice in one day… shutting out his emotions was coming more easily than ever.

He should've felt surprise when he saw his father stepping out of the fireplace so quickly after such an incident, but he felt indifferent. "Hello, Father," he said dully.

"Scorpius," Draco looked incredibly worried, his expression laced with what could've been identified as shock and regret.

"Mister Malfoy," McGonagall addressed Draco. "What are we going to do about this?"

Scorpius's first registered thought was that he didn't like being talked about as if he wasn't there. He looked angrily at his father and the Headmistress, but then toward Rose, whose expression was a textbook example of what he _should_ be feeling. Her face white as paper, eyes wide and swimming with emotions… hands fiddling in front of her as she stood with slightly slouched posture…

He felt the need to cross over to her, so, impulsively, he did, standing close to her but not touching her.

She looked up at him with the most worried look her face ever held.

"—I suppose the only option is to take him home… for good," Draco's voice was gruff.

"Yes, I suppose you're right." McGonagall's brow furrowed discontentedly, and her eyes shined with emotion.

Rose lowered her head, looking straight at the floor.

Scorpius barely registered what they were saying, but was hyperaware of Rose's reactions. Wanting nothing more in that moment than to comfort her, he stepped closer, moving an arm to loop around her shoulders in the same gesture that meant so much different when Scamander did it.

She looked up at him, tears shining just under her eyes.

He didn't know quite what to say. In all honesty, he wasn't acting on any emotion or thought… just instinct. He still wasn't feeling or thinking much at all… all of the unpleasantness was still raging full-force upon him.

"Mister Malfoy," McGonagall cleared her throat, now addressing the younger of the near-identical men. "If you could go pack your things immediately. There is much physical and emotional distress that would come with remaining at this school, and it would be best if you go home for the time being." Her tone, would-be clinical, was betrayed by the tears building up behind her square spectacles.

Nodding, Scorpius turned and numbly walked to his dormitory. Thankfully, there was no one wandering the halls, it was still dinner, but Rose was, as always, just behind him.

There were still no full, coherent thoughts forming in his head as he emptied every piece of clothing haphazardly into his magically enlarged trunk.

"Scorpius," Rose said as he began to wordlessly Summon all of his books, the volumes zooming toward him from every direction.

"You'll be able to come back," She said with a naïve conviction.

He nodded, again wanting nothing to worry her. He stacked his books somewhat neatly in the corner of the trunk, and was reminded of a time that seemed not-so long before, when he'd been excited beyond his wits at the thought of going back to school…

The first thing he felt since leaving the Great Hall was that of an icy knife being stabbed through his heart.

Looking toward Rose, he let just a hint of the emotions now raging within surface in his eyes.

Again waving his lithe wand, he Levitated his trunk beside him and began to walk from the room back to McGonagall's office.

Unconsciously, he took longer doing so, trying to drink in what he knew was the final sight of the place he loved so much.

"You have everything?" The distressed expression seemed to have never left his father's aged face.

Scorpius nodded once again.

"I'll go home first, then, and tell Astoria. Be fast," Draco said solemnly, and stepped back into the green flames, throwing down a white-knuckled fistful of powder, and clearly saying, "Malfoy Manor".

Gritting his teeth together for a reason he couldn't place, Scorpius looked to the Headmistress, and then to Rose. Letting his trunk fall to the ground momentarily with a dull _thunk_, he stepped toward the girl, who hastily wiped away a wet spot from underneath her eye.

Again automatically, he placed his hands on her shoulders, almost hesitantly pulling her close to him, resting his arms across her shoulder blades. He felt her hands form small fists in the back of his shirt, her head against his chest.

He didn't know what to say for the umpteenth time that day. So, he surveyed the situation as much as his slow-moving brain would let him, and said, rather, whispered into her hair, the first thing that came to mind.

"The world has something against us, Rose. The first day I have you back, something happens where I have to leave again." He shook his head in defeat.

"You'll come back. I know you will," Rose said with the same certainty as before, not moving her head from its position.

He shook his head again, this time in contradiction to what she was saying. Reluctantly, he replaced his hands on her shoulders and gently pulled away from the warmth of her small figure.

Sparing a small, conflicting smile, he picked up his trunk and walked toward the fireplace.

With a gritty handful of powder, he stepped inside. Sparing a final look at McGonagall, now dabbing at her eyes with a lacy handkerchief, and Rose, who seemed to be attempting a smile, though her face was void of any color again, he threw down the powder and spoke, "Malfoy Manor".

The flames flashed emerald green, and encompassed his body. When they died down again, he was gone.

* * *

**A/N: **So, raise your hand if you want to punch Lorcan in the face! *raises hand enthusiastically*

I hope the POV changes weren't too confusing… I didn't want to add a line in between them, but I wanted to make sure it switched completely… I think it worked?

Anyway… I have an extremely neglected Theatre project that needs finishing… so…

Soooo school for me is officially out for summer! I vote we all have a mini dance party in celebration. Go! Okay, that's enough. Anyway, this is a good thing, since I'll have more time to write when I want. This story is scheduled to be completed by July 23, but I'll probably have it all written by at most the end of June. So, possibly shorter update times over the next month or so? No promises, though. But I do promise an abundance of oneshots. Who knows, maybe I'll do a few contests or something... summer = all new possibilities :D (Not to mention that I have two other multi-chaps outlined and ready to go, plus all of my other oneshots...) But chapter 12 will come, per usual, in one week. No early updates this time, sorry. XD

Make my day and **_Review? _**And how about a _**Story Alert**_ while you're at it?

In a week, my loves!

_KitKat Pyrophobia_


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** JK Rowling could probably come up with a much more effective way to make the characters miserable… by process of elimination and sheer obviousness, I do not own this.

**A/N:** We broke 200 reviews! Yayy! Good job everyone :D I love you all! Sincerely!  
Let's break 300 by the time this story is finished, kay? :3

So, it's 4:15 on Friday morning when I'm posting this in Texas... that counts as being Friday, right? :D

Kay, story time!

* * *

_"A friendly eye could never see such faults"_

Julius Caesar, Act 4 Scene 3

* * *

Rose knew, logically, that everything that happened was her fault. She could feel the guilt weighing omnipresent on her chest every time she looked beside her, only to see that Scorpius wasn't there anymore.

And it was her fault.

Her reckless impulse and the callow want to help him—though he quite clearly told her, on more than one occasion, not to—drove her into the hospital wing that full moon, luring Scamander into the room with them.

And, of course, it was all downhill from there.

She wasn't quite sure what had been said before Scorpius had woken her in the infirmary, but when she _did_ wake, there were no obvious signs of any altercation. Yes, there had been an unmistakable negatively-charged electricity in the room, and Scorpius had looked as if he was trying to mentally _Avada Kedavra _Lorcan, but they were civil. And then Lorcan called it off.

Was it too incredibly gullible to believe that it was?

Rose regretted doing hardly more than sleeping in that single-day gap when she and Scorpius were able to do what they wanted without consequence.

And then at dinner… it shot a quick, painful shiver up and down her body every time she realized that if she'd just listened to Scorpius's objections to going to the Great Hall instead of the Kitchens, he would have been spared the trouble of seeing Scamander there… if she wouldn't have messed up, he wouldn't be in that situation…

Of course, the first thing Rose had done after he left—other than, admittedly, cry—was confront the cruel Seventh Year.

If Scorpius knew what she'd done, he would've probably scolded her for being rash… this thought brought a guilty little smile to her face every time she thought it.

It hadn't been _too_ bad, the confrontation. It'd happened on Sunday, the day just after the announcement, and, after an afternoon of avoiding stares and pretending to have cast a _Muffilato _on herself, she'd found Scamander at the Quidditch pitch, cheering on his friends as they played against each other.

Of course he hadn't been actually _doing_ anything other than watch.

Lily and Albus seemed to have known exactly where Rose was going as she'd made an excuse to go to the pitch, so they had loyally followed a few steps behind, even after she'd heavily sighed that she didn't need a few cronies behind her just to go talk to Lorcan.

The name had literally burned up her throat with raw fury. She'd always thought that you only "saw red" when being hit with a Stunning spell or something of the like, but she'd actually found her vision to temporarily flash the cherry hue when she'd laid eyes on the stupid golden-blond head and shallow eyes the exact color of the sky on a clear summer day.

Scorpius's bright flaxen hair and pale platinum-metal eyes were easily on a completely different plane than Lorcan's clichéd, overrated features.

She'd bitten her lip to keep from screaming as soon as she had seen the boy, her right hand itching for the wand so easily accessible in the pocket of her jeans…

"Rosie," He'd greeted as she had come into his view, deliberately blocking the view of his friends' game from the stands.

She'd noted with a sick sense of pleasure that, though his voice was as pompously cheerful as usual, there was edge to it that read easily as fear. "Scamander." She had said shortly, crossing her arms. From the corner of her eye, she could see Al and Lily fidgeting a few meters away.

"What brings you over here, Love? Fancy watching a game of Quidditch?"

Exhaling with effort through her nose, she'd closed her eyes slowly and re-opened them, nails digging into her fists to keep them out of her pocket. "You said the deal was off."

His jolly face had fallen for a moment before perking right back up. "Right, I did. And if you recall, the deal was that I wouldn't tell as long as you were with me. I wasn't held to any Unbreakable Vow." He'd avoided her eyes.

Her breath held in, her heart racing in pure anger, she'd fought to keep her words steady. "You said you wouldn't tell. You lied."

He had shrugged, broad shoulders rising and falling as casually as if they were talking about the lack-of-splendor in the Keeper's missed save. "It's Gryffindors that are known for chivalry, not Ravenclaws, my love."

Rose's mouth had fallen open, all inhibitions lost with a light breeze of air as her hand dove into her back pocket.

"Rose, NO!" Lily's shrill-with-terror voice had hardly registered to Rose, whose hearing had been diluted by the pounding in her head.

"_Histedius_!" Rose had thought, fixing her attention on hurting the wide-eyed Lorcan in front of her… she'd resolved to use the low-damage hurting-hex, though she honestly felt that she could perform a fully-functional Cruciatus Curse, had she the lack of morals not to forbid the incantation to form on her lips.

Lorcan's body had flown backward with the force of the green rings of full-strength magic charging at him, slamming hard against the wall of the stands.

Self-control nearly diminishing completely, Rose had vaulted the few rows of benches in order to stand over the now-scrambling Scamander.

"Rose, w-what are you doing?" He'd sputtered, trying to stand from his position on his back on the stands.

She'd leaned over his body, wand pointed precisely an inch away from the end of his pudgy nose. Her thoughts had been racing with a suitable hex or jinx…

"ROSIE!" Nimble arms had then looped under hers, pulling her torso forcefully backwards, breaking her concentration and knocking her breath out of her lungs on contact.

Brow furrowing in anger that was fading at the comforting feel of familiar safety, she'd sent a glare at her captor. "Let me go, Al."

"_No_, he's not worth the trouble." Albus had insisted with rarely-heard total conviction.

Rose had known that from the beginning… that didn't stop her all-too human desire to hurt him physically in the way that he'd hurt someone she loved emotionally.

Wand still clutched in her hand, she'd pointed again at Scamander and whispered, "_Furnunculus_," as she was being pulled away.

"Rose," Lily's voice had been authoritative and warning.

But, Rose had felt almost accomplished in that brief humiliation in front of his book-smart-but-dumbly-guffawing friends. The concise sight of their alarmed faces that had been openly fighting laughter wasn't near enough, but still cruelly satisfying.

"Sorry," She'd said sincerely, casting an apologetic glance to both of her cousins.

They'd sighed in sync, and just rolled their eyes at the outburst… both had been understanding about the situation.

They, like everyone else, had been horrified, shocked, afraid, and any other blend of negative emotions when Lorcan announced what Scorpius was. From what they said with nervous expressions the night he left, everyone was terrified for the most part. Because, apparently, after Scorpius left, he'd taken it upon himself to recount the entire moon before, complete with gory details of his so-called tragic injury.

If what they said didn't convince her, the partly-horrified-partly-disgusted looks she received left and right at breakfast the next morning did.

There were some people who whispered, and the others just spoke at regular volumes, heedless of the fact that Rose was nearby. And as hard as she tried to block them out, it didn't help. Their gossiping lips spilled out too much information to _not_ hear some of them.

"… I always thought he was weird…"

"… I heard he doesn't even take Wolfsbane…"

"… yes, that's why Scamander got hurt…"

"… did you _see_ the huge gashes across his chest?"

"… Weasley knew the whole time…"

"… maybe she's into that…"

"… well _that _explains earlier this year in DADA…"

"… all over him since First Year…"

"… well, she _must_ be crazy…"

"… freaks…"

"… dangerous…"

"… stay away…"

And word getting around about Rose "attacking" Lorcan didn't help anything.

"… first Malfoy, then Weasley… I feel so bad for Lorcan."

The words were easy enough to dismiss. After all, whether they were judging unjustly or not, the students were guilty of ignorance more than anything. They were being force-fed false rumors and typical anti-lycanthropy. So, they didn't know about Scorpius's condition properly, and above all, they didn't know _Scorpius_.

They didn't know how badly it hurt him (in both a literal and metaphorical sense) to be confined in a room every month to lower the risk of taking or ruining a human life… none of them saw the indescribably terrified look in his eyes as his body contorted into that of a beast…

They didn't know how Lorcan blackmailed her into being with him so Scorpius could avoid the sort of reaction he was getting then… they didn't know of his threats that were now being realized.

And, in regards to all of the sudden trash-talk about her, though she was generally well-liked before, she believed that people reserved the right to think what they wanted… even when it was misguided and bigoted.

So, generally, the words didn't her nearly as bad as the behavior did.

Rose realized after Scorpius left that she really _was_ a minority when it came to not treating lycanthropy like the Plague.

The people she'd considered friends, the same people who waved and greeted her in the hallways and carried on friendly conversations with her in class, were now shying away from her with wide eyes and fearful stares. The more prejudiced of the lot would wrinkle their noses and turn away in revulsion, her very presence obviously repulsing them… mostly Slytherins.

Her cousins and brother were more understanding of course, their parents having taught them not to judge people, no matter if they were werewolves, giants, or flobberworms, for things they had no control over… but that didn't stop them from being surprised with the rest of the student body.

She spent a good portion of the Sunday after Scorpius left retelling the general points of his condition and their relationship to a few of her family members, who were more than happy to listen to Rose's story, even if it meant remaining sheltered and secluded in an unused classroom for most of the day.

However loyal they were, though, she was hardly hesitant to detour around certain bits of the story, such as Scorpius's more personal reactions and thoughts, plus how strongly she was finding herself to really feel about him…

Because _that_ wasn't any of their business.

Though her family was supportive as any members of a family should be, the disapproving looks from her peers overpowered the weak stability by them…

She'd never felt so alone in her life.

When she was stuck with Lorcan, she knew that she could look forward to Scorpius still being there in class… but now, she knew that he wasn't even in the same _country_ as her…

And that was a horrible thought.

By now, Rose thought she would have the mental capacity to do something other than miss him. She wanted so badly to be able to talk to him, to tell him that he would be fine, that he didn't need any of them…

She wanted to tell him to come back to school with her.

* * *

Rose wasn't sure _why_ she didn't realize such an obvious means of communication before… besides owl, of course. She'd come to the conclusion, after about 30 balled up and scratched-out pieces of parchment, that what she wanted to say couldn't be properly expressed in anything other than face-to-face words. And that was when it hit her…

Face to face.

She felt very James-ish in the past few months, what with sneaking out of bed for the hospital wing, and now this?

Sneaking out wasn't nearly as fun as her cousin had made it sound… especially when it involved breaking into the Headmistress's office to use her fireplace (James would've been so proud to find out).

The familiarity of the feeling of suspense and skin-nipping nervousness was not comforting in any way. Headmistress McGonagall was at dinner, which gave Rose at least an hour, maybe two, to execute the plan; the Saturday dinner was always more drawn-out than any other during the week.

Having put her priorities in order earlier that Wednesday or so, she realized that this was the best plan. It was well worth the risk, worth the possible punishment if she were to be caught to be able to see him again, even for a short time.

Scorpius was just _worth _it.

Conviction didn't stop the weight of nerves in her stomach from crawling up into her throat and forming a lump there that made it incredibly difficult to breathe.

The rational part of her knew that McGonagall would probably be at dinner for an hour longer at least… the unreasonable part of her was sure the woman would pop up behind her any moment, take at least fifty points from Gryffindor, and proceed to expel her.

_That _wouldn't be any fun.

Coming upon the door, she looked to the left and right of her in a way that would've looked incredibly suspicious to any onlookers. Reaching a slightly-trembling hand into her back pocket, she pulled out her wand, and pointed it at the door.

After muttering "_Alohamora_" (she couldn't concentrate long enough on the single word to do it wordlessly), she turned the knob, and walked cautiously into the room.

Everything was in order. Portraits on the walls were minding their own business (Rose wasn't the first person to break into the Headmistress's office, after all). Furniture was neatly set. There was an idly burning fire in the stone fireplace behind her desk.

Rose almost ran to the fireplace. She'd decided previously that she wouldn't actually _go_ to his house, just call him. It would be rude if she just barged into the Malfoy's residence without any warning… And just because she was a rule-breaker didn't mean she lost all consideration for manners.

She sifted the shimmery blackish powder between her fingers once before fisting her hand in it, encompassing a bit. Her heart was now pounding with nervousness… she wasn't sure if she'd be able to hear McGonagall if she came into the room unannounced…

Still, this had to be done. The aching in her heart at Scorpius's absence was much stronger than the nerves in her throat at the Headmistress happening upon her.

Kneeling down in front of the fire, she dropped the entirety of the powder into it, and watched briefly as the low-burning flames exploded in fierce green ones.

"Malfoy Manor," She said clearly, though nervous, for the first time wondering _where _exactly the fireplace was in the Manor…

She ducked her head into the fireplace, still on her hands and knees. Having grown up in an all-magic family, she'd traveled by Floo Powder many times… but the sickening feel of spinning, head going through quick flashes of hot and cold, the emerald around her getting closer and closer, didn't ever fade entirely.

As a result, she had to squeeze her eyes tightly for a few moments after she'd finished spiraling in order to fend off the horrible aching sensation that always came from spinning so quickly…

Carefully opening the tawny eyes again, Rose did a quick survey of the area…

Books. Books and books and books all around her. She could smell the leather that bound them, see the high shelves that held no gaps in between them, filling the entire small room, save for the middle of the floor, which held a matching set of a plush deep-green, regal-looking armchair and ottoman, and a glossy black accent table, fit with a short, equally classy, lamp. The dim, moody lighting of the room made it feel slightly humid in a comfortable sort of way.

_What now?_ She thought slightly miserably, regretting not thinking this far into the plan… she realized that she could've owled Scorpius to tell him that she was going to call him…

Her line of sight was limited to a less-than ninety-degree range, even when she strained uncomfortably to get more of a look at the nice-but-noticeably-empty room.

She huffed, wondering if she should just give up, and go write Scorpius, saying to meet her in his library… her knees were already protesting their current position. Biting her lip, she mentally laid out the pros and cons of leaving…

"—not hungry right now!"

Rose's heart skipped a beat at the sound of the distant, but recognizable, voice.

"Mum, I'm not hungry right now!" It called, more loudly this time.

"Mum, I said—" There was an audible sigh. "Mitzi, can you go tell my mother that I'm not hungry?"

A loud _crack!_ was heard, and the sound of footsteps somewhere to her left grew louder at the same rate her heartbeats quickened.

Sudden light infiltrated the room, but then faded once more. Though Rose strained her neck to see from where he was walking in, she couldn't see him just yet. Her impatience was growing as he seemed to be milling around the shelves just out of her line of sight.

Feeling unreasonably nervous, she had to actually clear her throat before she could quietly say, "Scorpius?"

There was a sound of something clattering to the ground, and Scorpius quickly came into view, stopping just in front of the fireplace with widened eyes and slightly unkempt hair.

"Rose? What are you doing here?" He asked, sinking onto the large, square ottoman. Seeming to notice something, his face splotched pink on the skin underneath his eyes, and he ran a hand through his hair at the same time he attempted to button his before-open dark blue button-up that was layered over a simple black tank-top.

As simple as this question was, it did something odd to her thought process. The answer was obvious: she came there to see him. It was the same reason she ended up in the Hospital Wing in the dead of night after the full moon. The same reason she even bothered with the infirmary every month.

But why couldn't she form the words into a coherent sentence?

"Rose?" He pressed, leaning forward slightly.

Oh, _that_ was why.

His eyes. His face. His entire posture, demeanor, disposition showed complete evident of what could only be described as misery. Explicit, transparent suffering.

Rose would have much preferred, she saw now, Scorpius's desolate, blank, unfeeling expression over this new one.

His entire posture looked subdued and weighed down, like there was a literal mass pressing down on his shoulders. His limbs held a visible tension, and his hands, clasped in between his knees, twitched as if any moment he would reach up and bury his face in his hands.

His _face_…

Jaw slightly slackened, skin looking sallow and nearly translucent, stretched taut against mockingly contradicting aristocratic features; usually-pinkish mouth held the same lack of hue as his skin—rougher, though, chapped—the part in the middle the only indication that there were lips at all; eyes dull, more like dust than the usual stormy gray, holding so many emotions behind the glassy, forlorn surface that Rose felt heat rising behind her retinas and in the back of her throat…

But still, she wanted nothing more than to see him… even if it meant hurting this badly.

She cleared her throat; Scorpius was still waiting for her answer.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay," Her voice sounded strained.

His expression hardened instantly, the shallow lines in his face seeming to deepen with an odd, misplaced stress mingled with the ghost of relief.

The corner of his mouth curled up tightly: a contrived smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I'm okay."

Rose wasn't sure whether or not to press the matter; it was quite obvious that he was lying through his teeth.

He beat any objection she might've had by speaking first, "How's school?"

Her throat closed momentarily as she fought the immediate negative response. Her knees were now feeling raw with ache.

"It's been… better." Rose replied hesitantly.

His face was still ashen, stony, as his expressionless voice asked, "How are they treating you?"

Her breath caught. Shaking her head somberly, she asked, "Does it even matter?"

"Yes." He replied automatically, his eyes flashing with something akin to warning.

She sighed and shifted uncomfortably, sending a sharp pain through her lower leg. "It's… not as bad as I thought, actually. It's—it's… well… everyone acts more…" She moved her eyes from the blackish-green plush rug to his eyes for a momentary apologetic look, "… scared than anything." Her heart felt like pure lead in her chest.

There was no chance for her to see what kind of expression crossed his face immediately after she spoke because when she looked up his head was buried in his hands, white-knuckled fingers gripping his hair so tightly that she thought he was going to rip it straight from its roots.

Her heart began to beat more quickly, the want to console him nothing but overwhelming. "But," She began hastily, not sure what she was actually going to say, "It's getting a little better every day, and a lot of people don't believe Scamander anyway, plus all of my family supports you, so you'll probably be able to come back—"

Her voice froze as his head abruptly snapped up, palms still facing upwards on his lap, hair falling haphazardly across his eyes.

His eyes burned straight into hers with something she couldn't quite place. "Rose," He began, his voice seeming to strain to keep level, "I'm not going back to school."

She knew that this was going to be his logic… but she didn't want to hear his real, normal life crushed in his now-gravelly voice.

"You'll be able to, Scorpius, I swear," Her voice cracked from the moisture welling up behind her eyes.

He exhaled deeply and ran a hand back through his hair, still looking intently at Rose. "I'm not going back."

"Why not?" She asked weakly, her heart steadily dropping lower in her stomach every moment his dejected look became more and more so.

"Because I don't want to." He said clearly, unblinking.

"Liar," Her reply was rather simple, though the unwavering defiance in her voice was strong enough to voice everything she was feeling.

"I'm serious."

"No you're not. You love school."

"I can live without it. I'm…" He paused, and cleared his throat before sitting up straighter, "I'm not coming back, Rose."

"Why?" She asked again, more force in her voice this time.

This seemed to break him down, all façade crumbling instantly. "Because it's too _dangerous_, Rose, because… because…" He sighed again, avoiding her eyes for the first time as he moved his head back into the cradle of his hands, "Because I don't want you to become the next Scamander."

She was puzzled, and almost offended. "What do you mean by that?"

"Think about it. If there was one person dumb enough to come near me during the full moon, it just _had_ to be you. And I know that if I come back, you'll do it again, no matter what you saw last month. I know… I know that there's always too much of a risk for you getting hurt for me to ever _really_ feel secure enough that I won't hurt you… and I don't want that for you, Rose."

The bridge of her nose was burning internally as she fought off more tears, caused by both anger and grief at once. "If you're doing this solely for my benefit," The strength of her voice surprised both of them, "Then that's dumb. If you coming back rests on me not coming with you on the full moons, then I just won't go! Scorpius, you _love _school. And you yourself said that it doesn't matter what the others think…"

"You're a horrible liar, Rose. You'll come again. Every month," She opened her mouth to object, but he cut her off, shaking his head, "I _know_ you. You… care too much. And it's not just for you… I don't want to be in a place where everybody fears me…" His voice was beginning to tremble.

"Scorpius…" She was at a literal loss for words.

He began again, his voice unsure. "You know that teacher, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher that you love to use as an example for my situation?"

"Remus Lupin," Her head nodded.

"He resigned, didn't he? The second everyone found out." His stare was fixed on a spot to the left of him on the posh rug.

Her mouth opened, and then closed. Again, she was speechless, but overwhelmed with emotion.

"It doesn't matter what you tell them, or how they react," Scorpius was shaking his head again.

She looked at him carefully.

His eyes rose to meet hers, her heart stopping for just a moment as she saw just how moistened they'd become. The intensity of the look was overwhelming…

"I'm never going back, Rose."

The convinced sincerity of his words was enough to make her thoughts stop for just a moment.

"Mister Malfoy, Sir!" A scrawny little elf appeared in the room, glancing with huge eyes at Rose's head in the fireplace before fixing her near-creepy stare on her master.

"Yes?" He sounded exhausted.

"Missus Malfoy would like to speak with you,"

"Thank you, Mitzi," He said simply, not even looking at the elf, who nodded and disappeared again.

He crept forward and knelt down beside the fire, looking straight into Rose's eyes.

She was feeling rather dizzy.

"Goodbye, Rose." He said slightly breathily before standing back up and walking out of the room importantly.

Her mind was blank… the sound of the door shutting rang throughout the room for a few seconds, in which time she was reminded that she was still trespassing in the headmistress's office in a limited time period.

Heart giving a painful twinge, she pulled her head out of the fireplace, her entire body now kneeling uncomfortably on the floor.

As she stood up, her knees nearly gave out from the strain she'd put on her joints… they both felt like there were knives stabbing repeatedly into them; her hands were dealt the same: putting her weight on them for so long caused them to fall asleep, now resulting in the terribly uncomfortable feeling of pins and needles in her palms and fingers.

Rose didn't know when someone had slipped her Felix Felicis, but somehow McGonagall wasn't standing just behind her as she turned toward the door to leave, waiting to deduct a lifetime's worth of points from Gryffindor and permanently revoke her Prefect status…

Sighing unhappily, the visit having left her much more depressed than she'd anticipated, she walked numbly to the common room, completely forgetting that she hadn't had any dinner yet.

The redhead was quite glad that it was mostly empty, since it gave her time to think in peace by the fireplace…

Though there were many things swirling around in her head, ranging from misplaced happiness, defiance, and hormonally-charged thoughts, there was one sense of finality that left her feeling ultimately discontented.

What Scorpius said was the reality, then…

He really wasn't _ever _coming back.

* * *

**A/N:** Soo… they're both miserable. But what else could you really expect from this situation? It's all very important.

So, I think McGonagall really _did _see Rose in her office… but Minnie's heart is too big to interrupt such an "intimate" scene :D

(Oh, bee-tee-dubs, the "hormonally-charged thoughts" in Rose's mind were of Scorpius's untidy appearance when she first saw him… the open shirt and disheveled hair… *drool)

Kay. Enough fangirl-ing.

Remember to put on **Story Alert **and PLEASE_PLEASE__**PLEASE REVIEW**_ ! There are still five chapters to go !

Until next time! ('Cause I'm not sure when I'll be posting chapter 13... Friday at latest, but hopefully sooner!)

Okay. Bye.

_KitKat Pyrophobia_


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** Nahh

**A/N:** 1:42 in the morning counts as Friday, right? :D

So I had a dream the other night that I got a flame... hahaha, you know you spend too much time on FF when you start _dreaming _about it XD

I love how FF doesn't alert you when a story is added to a Community... but thank you to the people who added this!

This chapter is a bit longer than the last… the entire thing following Scorpius :D

Enjoy!

* * *

'_Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed,_

_When not to be receives reproach of being,_

_And the just pleasure lost, which is so deemed_

_Not by our feeling, but by others' seeing._

_For why should others' false adulterate eyes_

_Give salutation to my sportive blood?_

"Sonnet 121" 1-6

* * *

Scorpius never abhorred the sight of his room so much until he was confined there when he would've usually been at school.

The themed colors that recurred boastfully and boldly across the space now somehow seemed to mock him; the hues of navy and bronze splashed across every surface instantly moved any train of thought he had straight to Hogwarts.

On yet another unmotivated day, he lay despondent under his ostentatiously blue comforter, the coverage feeling almost too heavy in a way that mirrored his mental state. Mid-morning light shone through the high window right across from where he laid on his side, bordered by the bulky azure velvet curtains.

Though the bed covered a large amount of floor space in the rather big room, it was otherwise airy and almost empty. On the opposite side of the room from the window was a sophisticated chestnut wardrobe; adjacent to that was an equally refined desk that was somehow always covered with spare bits of parchment or books open in a marked place or closed and stacked atop one other. Right beside the desk was a set of French doors that led to a lavish, shining bathroom with all Goblin-made fixtures and appliances. Scorpius knew he probably should be getting to the bathroom for his daily hygiene routine, but couldn't find the will to move at all.

What harm would lying in bed for just a few more minutes do?

Besides, he felt like even if he _wanted _to move, he wouldn't be able to. There was something in him that made his limbs feel like rubber, like his head was molded to the pillow beneath him. His eyelids felt so heavy that only holding them half-open was a strenuous struggle.

He knew fully well that it wasn't a physical problem that had him feeling so lazy, but an emotional one.

Before, at school, he was energetic and ready for the day by around six-thirty. Now, around nine-forty-five, he was feeling apathetic and basically _useless_ at home.

The blond remained staring out the window. The glare had lessened since he woke up, so now he could see the view just past his balcony. The grounds surrounding the Manor were almost covered with dense forest, allowing him to only see the in-season leaves that obscured most of the area. The house was situated in the crevice in between two sharply sloping mountains, thus leaving the impression of being suffocated with near-vertical throngs of nothing but woods. These did absolutely nothing to assuage the feeling he often got of being secluded and trapped at home.

Scorpius wondered what it would be like to live in the forest… living off the land, amongst creatures Magical and Non-Magical alike. There really was no reason to try and function in a regular Wizard society anymore… now that people knew what he was (and he was quite sure that there'd been scandalized letters to and from parents, meaning that people outside school had been informed) he was going to be hated by default.

He felt spiteful, almost rebellious. If people were going to hate him, why not give them something _to_ hate?

He could live in the wild… he could be a free werewolf, not restricted by any society norms or regulation… he could be feral and just like he was stereotyped to be…

He could be just like Fenrir Greyback.

His hands reached up to his hair, where he fisted them in the fine strands, squeezing fists tightly enough that he felt a few hairs come loose from his scalp with a painful pinch.

It was nearly every day now that stupid, reckless thoughts like that would pop into his mind. Scorpius never truly considered any of them for more than a few seconds, but they would still be there, only adding to the simmering potion of concentrated misery distributed into every cell in his body.

He stood up, suddenly hating the fact that he was being so lethargic. Just because he _felt _useless didn't mean he had to _be _useless.

The walls and décor he passed on the way to the kitchen were nothing more than a blur by now, having taken the same path every day he was home since he was born.

Once in the kitchen (also a formless, colorless blur due to familiarity) he murmured some monotone request to an enthusiastic Elf for some breakfast meal he didn't remember three seconds after he said it. Despite the usual pleasant taste of everything the experienced Elves prepared, Scorpius hardly tasted it at all. Utensils clinked against china from two other places at the table, where his parents sat.

He tried to ignore the looks they both were giving him by staring down at his plate, but the somewhat-burning gazes were enough to irritate him.

He raised piercing eyes in their direction; Astoria instantly lowered her wary, deep blue ones at her own plate; Draco moved his intent gaze back to the _Daily Prophet_ after a moment's hesitation.

Scorpius's brow furrowed and he stabbed a small chunk of scrambled eggs with a bit more force than necessary… it was all he could do to prevent burying his face in his heads once again…

The whole reason he'd even bothered to keep the entire situation a secret was because of people's uneasy attitude toward his family in the first place… his father didn't want this apprehension toward the name "Malfoy" to be amplified in any way. It was an idea that sounded selfish in theory, but could hardly be called that upon analysis.

He was just doing it for the future of his family.

But now… now that Scorpius had screwed up so badly, all the work that his parents had put into restoring the reputation was shot. They would have to start over from scratch, now also trying to convince the world that, on top of all lasting accusations of being Death Eaters (the Wizarding World always on edge in case of a "rebirth" or uprising of former Death Eaters), having a werewolf for a son still didn't make them Dark wizards.

Scorpius wanted to apologize so badly… he wanted to tell his mother and his father that he was so incredibly sorry for everything he'd done to hurt them… everything…

But no words seemed to sufficiently express everything he meant by them.

Draco cleared his throat, causing Scorpius's reverie to falter, the lethal hold he had on his fork to loosen. He looked up at his father.

"I've contacted the Ministry. They say that an owl will bring you the dose of Wolfsbane you need at noon starting tomorrow." His eyes were still trained on the _Prophet_; unlike his mother's eyes, which betrayed everything that went on behind them (he inherited that trait from her), his father's eyes hardly ever held emotion at all. It was his voice that portrayed every mental hardship, if one was to listen intently enough. At that moment, it was full of hidden stress and muted sorrow.

Not knowing what to say, Scorpius simply nodded. He skillfully avoided his mother's tearful glances throughout the rest of the tense, silent breakfast, and soon made his way to his room, where he numbly completed his hygiene routine in around half and hour's time. Following that, he sat at his desk with his notebook and read through a chapter of each of his textbooks, making sure to take detailed notes over each… With no professor speaking, he was able to take all of this at his own pace. He smiled grimly at the fact that the thought brought him absolutely no happiness.

* * *

Scorpius's throat closed completely, his taste-buds exploding in agony at the horrible new addition to his mouth. To his great dismay, it took a few extra seconds for his throat to respond to what his brain was telling it to do, which only prolonged the disgustingly bitter taste on his tongue. Face distorting into a mockery of its usual aristocracy, the thick, almost slimy, liquid moved from his mouth to his stomach.

Resentfully, he Vanished the glass as soon as he could get a hold of his wand.

He sighed heavily, wiping his face with his hands in an attempt to maintain his consciousness. He was thankful that his parents left him alone to endure the misery, not liking when he was on display while taking the precaution of the potion… Rose was a periodic exception to the rule. Even Slughorn retired to his office as soon as he handed off the goblet.

He was feeling ill, his reaction time and thinking speed affected by the fogginess in his brain. Still, he had his Charms textbook open in front of him right beside his notebook. His quill was lazily rested between two of his fingers, the feather at the end tickling his forehead.

Another quick sigh sounded before he dipped the quill back into the ink, reading the next few lines of text, but hardly soaking in any of the information.

His eyelids were drooping slightly, his entire mentality rather indignant. The nib of the quill hovered over the yellowish paper… he wondered what he should write.

The Malfoy wondered, _Why was he even writing at all_?

It wasn't like the effort was working towards anything anymore… was he doing it just for something to do?

He would have no N.E.W.T.s to take the next year, no final test before the term ended. There was really no reason to be attempting to learn anymore, except to inflate his pride.

His hand was squeezing the quill so tightly that he thought it might snap between his fingers. The point was digging a hole into the paper; the ink blot soaked through at least five pages.

He dropped the quill, frustrated, paying no mind to the black splatters now forming on the paper, his desk, and his hands; he snapped the Charms book shut, along with the four other books he'd been reading for recreation, making sure they all made a definitive _clap_ noise; bitterly, he pushed all of his "schoolwork" away from him, causing a few supplies to clatter to the ground and spare pieces of parchment to fly around him.

He didn't care.

If he had something dispensable, he would destroy it. He felt almost inspired to Summon a few glasses from the dining room, just to get the satisfaction of seeing something other than his mentality shatter into a million little destructive pieces.

His hands were clenched again, his nails cutting little crescent moon shapes into his palms. The pain felt oddly gratifying… unlike anything else that had happened so far that year.

Abruptly, he stood, causing his chair to flip sideways from the momentum. He blinked back the moisture that was forming in his eyes, forcefully pulling his shirt over his head, his exposed skin now feeling chilled, uncomfortably so, in a self-destructive way that he suddenly craved.

He raked his fingernails unmercifully over the scar on his side.

What was the point in studying if he was never going back to school? What use was learning if he would never have to use it ever again in life? He was no longer working toward a hopefully ambitious career… he no longer had a future at all outside of Malfoy Manor… which meant even less of a chance of ever having a family of his own…

So what was the point of anything?

Honestly, in that moment, nothing appealed to Scorpius more than the concept of death. He felt like falling asleep and never waking up again… there was no reason to live anymore. Every bit of drive and motivation he'd ever had stemmed from the want to better himself academically, to become to best at whatever he did…

But how would he know that he was the best when he was isolated from the rest of the world he knew?

As he lay down ungracefully across his bed, he hoped with every fiber of his being that that his thoughts would be fulfilled.

* * *

Scorpius, after three days of taking Wolfsbane, was feeling the pre-moon sickness hit him full-force. There was constant ringing in his ears that only added to his now-constant headache that pressed into his temples harshly and sent a shooting pain behind his eyes even in the dimmest light. A suffocating pressure in his sinuses no longer allowed him to breathe through his nose whatsoever. His entire body ached. His vision was unfocused; moisture seeped from the inner corners of his eyes even when there was no emotional trigger for it whatsoever. The most his hoarse voice spoke were moans and groans of discomfort that were the reflections of the pure physical anguish that was illness.

* * *

By the Wednesday before the Friday full moon, Draco and Astoria were getting very nervous. They'd only been around their son for one of his transformations, so they weren't quite used to the concept yet. Scorpius wasn't nearly as scared as them for that Friday. If anything, he was feeling more at ease due to the fact that there weren't nearly as many people at his house to hurt should the potion fail.

At the same time, though, he found his parents' worried glances, the constant undeniable panic in his mother's eyes, and the tell-tale slight quiver in Draco's voice guilt-inspiring enough to completely level out any relief he felt.

As if the socially-struggling family's life wasn't hard enough already—Astoria could hardly get routine shopping done in Diagon Alley without coming home near tears from all of the dirty looks she received during the day, and Draco had to work a steady business affairs position for Gringotts from a secluded little office somewhere in Muggle London just above where the bank would extend to if it were taller… but he couldn't ever face any Witch or Wizard directly… he always had to get a representative to stand in for him, because any business deal the company would possibly have would be diminished as soon as they realized that Draco was an ex-Death Eater—, there was the addition of their werewolf son who lived at home because of his condition that they had to worry about every month. They had so much already on their plates…

… and Scorpius was just making everything worse for them.

He was sure they didn't mean to daunt him by setting out the Wolfsbane for him at dinner. They didn't know how much he really abhorred the potion, or how terrible it tasted. They just knew that he was supposed to take it, and that they wanted to have dinner with him that night. So, as soon as the plates were Vanished, and the house-elves shooed away after mumbles that the family didn't want any dessert, Scorpius gave a grim smile and glanced up through thick lashes to see that his parents were both looking at him expectantly, tears already falling freely down Astoria's cheeks, her hand clutched in both of Draco's white-knuckled ones, his face completely void of emotion.

Internally sighing, wanting to make drinking the potion as anticlimactic as it usually was, he raised the smoking goblet to his lips and tilted it bottoms-up until it slid mostly down his throat, hardly any lingering on his tongue. He squeezed his eyes shut to not focus on the taste; he set the goblet down again, standing up from his seat immediately.

Fear and pity mixed on his mother's face as he swiftly stalked past them, feeling the extreme guilt falling over him like a tub of icy water.

"I'm sorry that I'm like this," Scorpius murmured as he passed the couple, eyes at the tile.

He heard a sharp intake of breath from Draco, but wasn't around to hear any more, as he walked straight out of the kitchen and to his room before they had a chance to say anything at all.

* * *

The sun was blazing with a honey-orange glow, leaving its last impression on his room, on Friday afternoon, but Scorpius paid no mind. His leg bounced from his position at the edge of his bed, watching the sky without really seeing it. There was an empty goblet on his bedside table that had previously held his Wolfsbane Potion. There was a certain nervous electricity in the air that he couldn't really place because, honestly, he felt much more at ease knowing he was going to transform here rather than at school… there were less people here to hurt, less people to happen upon him, terrified…

With the lack of stress, Scorpius wondered if school had even been worth it.

Every full moon, rushing from one end of the school to another in fear of the sun setting more quickly than usual, avoiding questions, and staying aloof… things were much easier, he realized as he moved a slightly-trembling body back against his lavish headboard, in the comfort of his home, only having to Summon the goblet into his room in seclusion, sitting on his comfortable bed, alone, knowing that his parents weren't going to bother him all night…

He would've given it all away for Rose to be there with him.

She'd written him since she visited him in the fireplace, offering friendly little updates and concerns in somewhat hastily-written letters (her handwriting was messier than usual, punctuation uncharacteristically imperfect in some places… probably written in lessons and sent after quick in-between-class runs to the Owlery) that he had responded to in an almost eagerly timely manner and stacked to read and re-read on his desk, but he hadn't actually seen her since she called him in his fireplace… and he was almost ashamed to admit to himself just how much he missed her, how much he wanted to see her and talk to her and embrace her in the way that used to be so natural…

His original plan to completely let go of their friendship wasn't working out at all.

Scorpius sighed heavily and ungracefully let his head fall against the wall. No matter how few people he was putting at risk by being at home, how relieved he felt at the fact, he knew it wouldn't ease the extreme pain that came with morphing into a wolf. It wouldn't stop the possibility of him destroying something in his room from boredom that he couldn't control, or put any of his pent-up emotions at ease. If anything, it only heightened the risk of him doing something destructive and hurting himself or one of his possessions.

The sun was low in the sky, casting a reddish light. He could already feel his body tensing up with anticipation… he, just like every month, felt nothing but extreme hate for what he was…

Someone outside his room (he wondered how he'd become so distracted that he didn't hear the footsteps) knocked, but didn't wait for Scorpius to respond before opening the door and coming in.

"Scorpius?" The delicate, careful voice of his mother asked from the crack in the door.

He looked into her face, where the worry she felt was completely betrayed by the look in her eyes. "Yes?"

"Do you need anything, Dear?" Astoria asked, not moving to come any more into the room.

"No Mother," He said in a voice dripping with strained pleasantness, "I would just really prefer if you and Father stayed away from my room tonight, please," He had no time to be formal, thus leaving his tone very austere.

She nodded, and looked like she was about to open her mouth to say something, but didn't. A tear rolled down her cheek.

"Good night, Mother," He said, forcing a smile.

Astoria bit her lip, nodded again, and let out just a small sob before closing and re-locking the door. He heard her footsteps die away, notifying him that she'd walked far enough away from him to be safe.

But now, there was the sound of footsteps growing from behind the door again.

Scorpius's stomach dropped. He'd specifically asked his mother and father to stay away from his room, and the entire region of the house, when he transformed to keep them out of any harm's way. He even felt concerned for the House Elves that would be doing their regular tidying up around the house at that time, so he'd asked Mitzi to tell them all to stay away from the area throughout the entire night… he hadn't wanted any risks.

So why was one of his parents walking by his bedroom door?

He'd unconsciously pulled his legs to his chest, resting his downward-looking head against his arms that were folded across his knees, so it wasn't much trouble for him to focus on whoever was outside his door…

There was a tiny inhale and exhale, and a small click that meant the door was magically unlocked.

He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head back and forth with barely-notable movements, hoping, _praying_, that the sun wouldn't set any faster…

A creak sounded, meaning the door had been opened. There was another gasp of breath, and this time he could recognize it…

Quick footsteps shuffled against the hardwood floor, and the bed beside him sank in. A gentle hand brushed the exposed back of his hair all the way to his neck, causing a slight shiver down his body from the light touch. He squeezed his eyes together again before opening them and lifting his head.

"Rose, it's not safe."

Instead of protesting in her usually-fiery manner, her expression was amazed, her eyes brimming with tears. The girl opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again. Before he was really sure what was going on, a million questions floating among more emotions than he could understand in his mind, she flung her arms around his neck and buried her face, her lips barely grazing the edge of his scar.

Scorpius suddenly found breathing to be very difficult, and he knew it had hardly anything to do with the fact that she was squeezing him so tightly. Feeling the ridiculous urge to smile despite everything that was going on, he let his legs straighten, and sat up, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing her body tightly to his, his nose in her ever-voluminous bob.

"Scorpius," She breathed against his exposed skin, causing an odd sensation in his stomach that made him only want to hold her tighter.

"How did you get here?" He asked the first question that made any sense in his muddled mind.

"Floo Powder from McGonagall's office," She said in a voice still bordering wonder.

"That's so stupid, Rose," Despite his words, he felt his heart swell, and his face smile.

"I couldn't leave you like this… not tonight." The redhead still hadn't loosened her hold on him.

"This is the worst time for you to visit," He shook his head.

She didn't say anything; she just laughed lightly, her breath tickling his now-sensitive skin.

Scorpius didn't want to let her go at the same time he wanted to re-take in every little detail of her face… so, he loosened his hold on her petite waist and she did the same. Both of their hands stayed on each others' bodies however—Scorpius's resting on her hips, hers linked behind his neck—causing them to be close enough to feel the electricity coursing between them.

"Why are you here?" He asked, eyes looking intently across her entire face, lingering a bit longer on her expressive tawny eyes.

"I told you: I couldn't leave you alone. Not after what I saw last month," She shook her head, looking determined. If he hadn't been searching her entire face rapidly, he wouldn't have missed her eyes fixed on the motion and appearance of his lips.

His breathing stopped for a moment after what she said registered to him. Silver eyes snapped up to brown ones, locking instantly. There were so many things he wanted to say to her… so many emotions he wanted a way to express to her… But the only foremost thing that was raging in his head was the need to get her to safety.

"Rose, please, don't—" His pleas were cut off abruptly as the first sharp twinge of pain pulsed through his body. His hands unconsciously clutched at her clothes, fisting the fabric roughly in his hands. Breaking eye contact to glance to the window, he saw the final bit of visible sun sink below the horizon… his heart raced to the pit of his stomach.

Rose responded by scooting closer to him, moving her fingers to weave through his hair in a way that would've felt nice to him if he could feel anything other than crumpling pain… "I'm not leaving, Scorpius," She whispered.

His brow furrowed, his body burning all over. Without meaning to hurt her, but knowing that he was being a bit too rough, he crushed her body to his.

"Rose…" His voice sounded hoarse, throat feeling raw. The pain was accumulating steadily, the arrhythmic surges of pure agony from head to toe causing his spine to feel like it was collapsing on itself.

The girl, much smaller than him, was half-holding him up.

His breath was coming in erratic heavy gasps, feeling shallow nonetheless, his nails digging into the back of the white v-neck she was wearing. Her fingers were still moving from the roots of his hair to the ends. He found that if he focused on the sensation this was causing, a good one rather than an agonizing one, the pain could almost be blocked.

If he opened his eyes, Scorpius could see that the fine white hairs were growing, gradually growing longer and thicker over his entire body. He could feel his spine beginning to hunch forward and extend at the bottom.

He was concerned that the transformation would be even more painfully awkward if he was still hugging her, so, as gently as he could in that state, he unhooked her arms around his neck and moved to allow his body to continue to contort forward, hands now clinging to the edges of his pillow, face buried in it as he felt his body eventually change into a state where that position was natural as walking on two feet regularly. His arms and legs changed uncomfortably as well, hands no longer able to grab his pillow, but just lay flexed beside it.

He felt his eyes moist from unshed tears, incredibly surprised that he hadn't cried aloud in pain. He could feel his tail growing to its regular length, and he knew that the transformation was almost over… When the knife-stabbing sensations all over his body turned into dull, pulsing ones, he knew that it was.

Now that the pain was mostly all gone, he realized that Rose's hand was gliding over his back in rhythmic strokes. He turned his head to look at her, and saw that she was cross-legged beside his ribs, a look of almost contented concern on her face.

"You have the softest fur… it feels like your hair, but there's more of it," She said nonchalantly, not meeting his eyes, a small smile perking up the corners of her lips.

Scorpius felt a rush of affection for her… the way she was staying so blasé was really admirable; he noticed that the comfortable mood she was putting into the air was positively affecting him, causing him a misplaced sense of calm. There were still so many things he wanted to say to her… but he knew he couldn't have found the right words even if there was a way to speak to her in a language she would understand.

Thoughts, some that were too confusing for him to want to deal with, lazily swam through his head as he laid there in that mellow atmosphere for an immeasurable amount of time. He felt his eyelids drooping at some points, but found the hyperawareness of the sensation Rose was creating against his skin enough to keep him conscious.

Rose hadn't said anything since she complimented his fur, which didn't bother him, but at the same time made him wish that he knew what she was thinking… he knew that somewhere under her calm reserve was undoubtedly fear. But he also knew, despite everything that'd happened that year, and everything she knew about him, that she trusted him… even when he still didn't really trust himself.

She shifted beside him on the bed, causing him to start, tensing his entire body. But she did nothing except for lay down next to him on her side, facing him. Her head rested on her arm that was lazily bent on his pillow. A serene smile still on her face, Rose continued to slide her hand across his body and neck.

Now that she was closer, Scorpius had a full view of her face lying close to his. She looked so beautiful with the pale moonlight playing at the feminine contours of her face. Her moist eyes were shining more than usual, despite the ease set deep into them, capturing his attention so effectively that he, for the first time, noticed the tiniest flecks of blue and green in the midst of the butterscotch-ocher… but above anything else, it was her lips that were enchanting him.

If he were human, it would've taken just the tiniest lean and tilt to…

Scorpius hopped off the bed, landing somewhat awkwardly on his unfamiliar four legs, the beating of his heart much too fast and irrational for his liking. He paced around for a bit, feeling incredibly uncomfortable with the fact that he was feeling such human emotions in the body of a beast. The perimeter of the bed was enough to satisfy his edgy need to move around. He felt like running his hands through his hair… but that was definitely out of the question.

Dejectedly, he crouched down on the floor at the foot of the bed, his snout in between his two outstretched paws. His head hurt from all of the illogical sensations building up in his chest, all the thoughts racing through his mind in a way that made no sense whatsoever.

"Scorpius?" His lack of movement seemed to concern her. He heard her move from where she laid against his pillow.

Amusement flared up in him, and he took the open window of time to hastily crawl in the space underneath his bed.

"Scorpius?" She asked again, but this time he could hear a smile in her almost sing-song voice.

He gave the smallest, least menacing growl he could muster, this game satisfyingly fun to him.

From what he heard, she didn't get off the bed, but moved from edge to edge, looking for him. Small giggles escaped her lips every few moments, making his heart lift every time.

When he heard her move to the side of his bed again, he seized another window of time, and stealthily backed out from under the bed, remaining crouching low to the ground.

"Scorpius?" Rose repeated. He could see her moving to the edge of his bed where he was, so he tensed all of his muscles…

As soon as Scorpius saw her body crawling forward, he pounced.

A quick gasp was heard from Rose as Scorpius flew at her, moving quickly through the air and successfully pinning her down, hovering above her figure.

A disheveled, surprised Rose had a look of shock and amusement mixed on her wide-eyed, smiling face. Her wrists were haphazardly thrown up beside her head, which was beautifully haloed by tousled red hair.

Scorpius, in spirit, was smiling even more widely than the girl.

"Not fair," She said in a breathless voice, reaching her hands up to run her fingernails lightly along the sides of his face.

He closed his eyes, wishing that he was human for the umpteenth time that night to run his hands through her hair, to caress her face, to hold her properly, to lean down and angle his head to where their lips caught in perfect sync…

Those types of thoughts were so emotionally-charged that they were an entirely new concept to him. He had had little immature crushes all throughout school, just like any boy had, and was quite aware from the beginning how physically appealing Rose was… but the way she looked to him now, the way he could feel his entire pretense of best-friendship melting into nothingness when he felt her against him, was something he recognized but didn't want to acknowledge.

_But I don't _want _to fall in love with Rose_. He thought sadly, every pessimistic thought he'd ever had about friendship with her flashing tenfold in his mind.

But of course, when she pulled his head down just slightly at the same time she raised hers to press her forehead against his in a way that allowed all affection to flow between them, his entire logical side collapsed, his mind suddenly unable to process a single reason why this _wasn't _right.

Trying his best to forget that he wouldn't be able to see her again for at least another month, he gave up completely on being logical, and moved his body to where he was half-laying across her chest, his head resting just above her heart.

He gave a heavy sigh, which Rose responded to with a light laugh that alleviated the room. He glanced up to her eyes once again and once again their depth and happiness amazed him. Her face was tinted with the slightest smile and accompanying blush, her hands once again running down his body.

The rhythmic sound and massaging feel of her heartbeat slowly lulled him into the deepest, easiest sleep he'd had in weeks.

* * *

**A/N: **So, Scorpius finally understands that he loves her now :D

SO, anyone else feel the sexual tension between them? I counted at least 3 times that they were thiiisss close to kissing XD if only Scorpius was human at the time… haha

Well, not much else to say right now…

Confession from Rose next chapter? (not in the way you think… I promise XD)

Right. _**Review? Story Alert? **_Please?_**  
**_

Je t'aime~

_KitKat Pyrophobia_


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** If I owned… just imagine all the slashy goodness… omg drool XP

**A/N:** Surprise! Happy Monday :D In light of recent events (I finished writing this completely!), I've decided to update early. I know you love me for it haha :D

Only three chapters left after this one! (Not sure whether to put a happy or sad smiley…)

So I love the fact that I got a review on Chapter 9 that said "YOU ARE A SICK SICK PERSON" hahaha, I'm not sure whether or not it was sarcastic, because a lot of you readers like to tell me how evil I am (:D), but either way it made me laugh.

Right. I got off topic. On with the chapter!

* * *

_Now whether it be  
Bestial oblivion, or some craven scruple  
Of thinking too precisely on th' event—  
A thought which, quarter'd, hath but one part wisdom  
And ever three parts coward—I do not know  
Why yet I live to say this thing's to do,  
Sith I have cause, and will, and strength, and means  
To do't._

Hamlet, Act 4 Scene 4

* * *

There was a feeling of serenity about the next morning when Scorpius woke. His conscious mind clicked on first, exposing him to the real smells and sounds of the world, not the fabrications created by his unconscious state. Something warm was pressed to the side of his body, which caused him to immediately smile in spite of himself, remembering that Rose was still there sleeping next to him.

He opened his bleary eyes, and there she was, lying on her side facing him, one hand rested lazily upon his naked chest.

His face instantaneously heated to just above the temperature of the sun as he realized the rest of him was equally unclothed…

Hastily, he hopped off the bed and flung open his wardrobe, grabbing the first pajama bottoms and t-shirt he found before dashing into the bathroom to clothe himself decently.

Heart still racing with embarrassment, mirror exemplifying this by the bright red tint up to his hairline and down beyond the v-neck of his navy blue shirt, he waited a few moments in the bathroom to regain his composure. And though there was every reason not to (_Rose is going to get in so much trouble back at school for sneaking out_… he thought somberly), he found himself grinning with an almost dazed expression.

Slowly, probably more carefully than necessary, he reentered his room, and, once again with the least logical reasoning behind it, smiled.

Rose seemed to not even notice that he got up, and way lying on her side in the same way she was before he ever got up, but with her hands cradled under her head now.

She looked so peaceful… so pretty.

He moved from where he was (unconsciously) leaning against the doorframe of the restroom, and deliberately sauntered over to the bed, where he cautiously climbed on, remaining safely away on the very edge.

His eyes itched for sleep, his body exhausted from the physically and emotionally trying night before, but the intensely awkward squeezing feeling in his chest prevented him from doing anything but lay wide awake, staring blankly at the ceiling with wide eyes.

Scorpius chanced a glance at Rose. She hadn't moved.

He felt his heart hammering for a reason he didn't want to admit; but at the same time, it was falling into the pit of his stomach. This was the last time he was going to be able to see her until she was dumb enough to sneak about again for the full moon. All of the painful moments he'd had all month were accumulating… at that flashed behind his eyes were memories of how much he missed Rose when she wasn't around…

… And now that she was here, he was laying a yard away from her, uneasily rigid against _his_ bed, when she wasn't opposed to him being nearer?

Mustering up some uncharacteristically-Gryffindor courage, he exhaled a shuddering breath and rolled onto his side to where he was facing her. He almost turned right back over as his face suddenly burned with embarrassment at seeing her so… vulnerable, but so… _pretty_.

But no. He pressured himself into actually doing what he planned (using mental tactics with both positive and negative reinforcement), and moved his body gingerly towards hers until her head was almost touching his, his hand gingerly rested upon her shoulder… and he held his breath and hesitated for just a moment in hopes of some kind of reaction…

And what he got was a slight smile, a deep breath, and a smaller body scooting its way further into his arms.

After his heart instantly lifted, it only took him a few moments of adjusting his arms more snugly around her and closing his eyes to fall promptly asleep.

* * *

Rose felt herself jolt awake, like some invisible force shook her suddenly from her imageless dream.

Immediately upon waking, she thought that she should be confused on where she was, what she was doing, why she was there…

But she knew as soon as her conscious mind flicked awake exactly what was going on: It was the morning after the full moon. She was in Scorpius's home, his bed, his arms. And why was she there? Well, because she loved him, of course.

But, the one thing Rose _wasn't_ sure of—and she was genuinely shocked that he thoughts made any sense whatsoever, but she supposed that the adrenaline pumping through her veins had something to do with her ability to think rationally in a situation that would've usually left her mind blank with glee—was what time it was… or what would happen to her when she got back.

Judging by the tiny crack of bright light she could see over Scorpius's navy-clad shoulder, it was already late morning. Late enough for her to possibly be caught… if she didn't get out at Firebolt 2000 speed.

Momentarily sacrificing quickness with caution, she began to wiggle and maneuver herself from Scorpius's comfortable hold without waking him. Her face somehow ended up incredibly close to his as she finally completely freed herself, which made her speed halt completely. Something about the way Scorpius looked when he was sleeping always caused her body to have a quick spell of contented numbness.

Smiling in a completely out of place moment, she drank in his appearance that she loved so much… his arms that were now tucked up beside his face, the flaxen hair strewn across the pillow, the parted lips, and the dark lashes dusted atop his cheekbones. Unable to stop herself, and unwilling to, she leaned forward from her position on her knees just next to Scorpius. In one smooth movement, she combed her fingers through the fine hair just above his ear, and brushed her slightly-trembling lips against his temple.

Rose pulled back after a split second, her face burning, but her conscious satisfied. Her eyes and mind lingered on him again, realizing how natural it felt to have her lips against his skin…

She snapped out of her near-trancelike state and crawled off the bed, moving as little as possible so not to wake him. Whilst rushing across the room to the door, she felt a sudden chill from the closed window. It was rather cold to be May. This temporarily slowed her down as goosebumps erupted across her entire t-shirt-and-cropped-sweatpants-laden body. Her mind was conflicted between speediness and comfort… and of course the desire for comfort won.

Creeping towards his svelte wardrobe, she carefully opened the dark-polished doors, hoping that there wouldn't be any noise emitted. She was only slightly surprised when she saw that he had quite an extensive collection of attire (ranging from actual Muggle clothing like jeans to some of the nicest cloaks she'd ever seen)… Pausing for just a second to admire this fact, she had to wait until her sense of urgency came back to her before she was able to reach her hand out and borrow a sweater that she'd seen him wear a few times on holidays or weekends—long-sleeved and v-necked, with black and dark gray horizontal stripes—from a stack of similar pieces from the corner.

As soon as she slipped it over her head and grabbed onto the ends of the sleeves in her fists, a shiver ran through her body, the chill on her skin being diminished by the warmth created by the heavy, oversized fabric.

Turning to smile at Scorpius's enchanting sleeping form once more, Rose sprinted out of the room.

The labyrinth of corridors that was Malfoy Manor never seemed more confusing to Rose than when she knew she needed to get out as soon as she could. Honestly, she'd dashed around the Manor the night before in a mad frenzy, trying to locate Scorpius, and it took what seemed like ages—but was actually around an hour or so—to find the somewhat-secluded bedroom. Now that she felt completely exhausted and almost brain-dead, she could not process anything outside the bedroom possibly recognizable. The only thought in her head (the same that had exploded as soon as she woke up) was that she needed to get back to school immediately…

… but _how_?

Hopelessness weighed heavily on her chest as her eyes began to dart around. The only thing familiar was Scorpius's bedroom door, which she was standing just a few feet in front of. The long corridor, stretched to either side of her, was even darker at the ends than where she stood hardly able to focus her eyes and stay alert in the dim light.

But Rose could feel the time wasting away, and she knew that some sort of decision had to be made. Her tousled hair flicked across her flushed cheeks and her teeth scraped against her lower lip as she looked left, right, and left again before setting off on gelatin legs to her right.

_Maybe I should've turned left…_ Rose thought wearily as she trekked down the never-ending hallway, passing what seemed to be around fifty doorways in the process. _How long can a hall possibly be?_ She thought with indignation. _Or maybe it's just enchanted to seem this way… Can that even happen? I think I remember reading something like that in _Hogwarts, A History_, but can you put an enchantment like that on a house? _Feeling her attention span wavering, she shook her head violently and berated herself. She tuned in with reality again, and quickened her pace down the passage.

Door.

Door.

Portrait (_He was very good looking… his face-shape was just like Scorpius's… No! Stay focused!_).

Door.

Bookshelf.

Door.

Staircase.

Rose's heart skipped a beat, excitement welling up in her chest. A sudden memory of puffing her way up a staircase played like a storyboard in her mind. She didn't hesitate whatsoever to whip around to her left and fly down said staircase, and, once at the bottom, continue straight with a new spring in her step.

She came to another intersection, and resolved to turn right (something about the discoloration of that bit of wallpaper seemed familiar…)

Suddenly, the beating of her heart grew louder, though the sound was still faint, almost seeming to creep up on her. Every step she took, it appeared to grow louder… and louder still until she almost felt worried that it was about to burst…

"Rose Weasley?"

The Malfoys must have charmed their ghosts invisible, because she didn't she the one that she walked through to feel that awful, icy feeling of water being poured over her head…

She had already stopped dead in her tracks, her entire body feeling numb. Nervous and miserable all at once, she slowly turned on her heel towards the voice she'd heard a few times before…

Draco Malfoy stood some ten meters behind her, somehow still looking classy and aristocratic in a deep green dressing gown with what looked like black silk pajama pants underneath, a simple white coffee mug in hand, his eyebrow raised high over slightly bloodshot eyes that were just a shade darker gray than the ones Rose was so used to.

She swallowed a knot in her throat, summon all of her courage (_I'm a Gryffindor… I'm a _Gryffindor!) to speak. "Hello, Mister Malfoy," She managed to greet pleasantly with an accompanying strained smile.

The corners of the man's mouth raised in a smirk. "I was just going to check on my son." He paused, "It seems as though you've just been doing the same?"

"Um… er…" She coughed awkwardly.

"The way I see it, there are only two reasons why my son's female best friend would be attempting to sneak out of my house so early in the morning,"

Her face was becoming progressively hotter.

"The first is rather obvious, considering your age, though I doubt you two have that sort of immature relationship,"

Rose's mouth fell open, every inch of her skin suddenly feeling well over the temperature of any Fiendfyre. "No, Sir, we weren't… I didn't…"

Scorpius's father held up his hand to silence her. Her jaw closed immediately. "The other, the one I'd assume to be true considering the circumstances, is that you stayed with him overnight."

Sound still struggled up her throat. "Yes sir. I knew that last night was the full moon, so I thought that…" Her voice trailed off as Draco's smirk grew more and more amused.

"Are you lost?" The blond asked as if he'd just ignored everything she'd said.

She looked to her left and right, her shoulders gradually slumping as everything around her blended into one mass of sheer unfamiliarity.

"I have an idea,"

Her heart was sinking, afraid that she was about to be punished, or banished from Malfoy Manor forever, or something of the like.

"I can show you the way back to school after we have breakfast."

The surprisingly pleasant quality of his voice genuinely shocked Rose. After all, he caught her trying to sneak out of his house after she broke in the night before… if she'd gotten hurt (Merlin forbid), she would have been his liability. With everything going against her in the situation, she wondered why in the world he was being so friendly.

"All right," She nearly stuttered, but kept her voice under control.

He motioned for her to follow him, which she could hardly refuse. Her legs were almost numb as they walked the winding corridors, Mr. Malfoy turning right, left, right, right—wait, was that right or left? Every turn got her deeper into the endless home, more lost in the incredibly confusing layout.

After what seemed like tiring hours of walking a safe meter or two behind the intimidating, silent man, they happened upon an area of the Manor that she actually recognized.

The entrance hall was just as lavish and well-kept (if just a little haughty) as it was on September the first, the day that completely changed everything with no immediate effects.

The quick flash of triumph she felt was dampened almost instantly as they strolled straight through the grand foyer to another passageway she remembered seeing Scorpius walk through on the day the train left.

Lining the narrow space were numerous portraits of what seemed to be every Malfoy to have ever lived. Every man or woman that looked at Rose or Draco had the exact same characteristic air of superiority and flawless blond hair (save for one man who looked like he lived somewhere around the Muggle Renaissance, whose light brown hair was conveniently topped with a wide-brimmed hat). Most all seemed to share most of the same physical traits which looked like they were only perfected with every new generation: the most recent painting of the late Lucius Malfoy being the handsomest of all.

But, as Rose was quickly reminded, outward beauty didn't necessarily reflect the personality underneath.

"Another Weasley? What is she doing in my house, Draco?" Lucius asked with a quiet iciness in his tone.

Scorpius's father visibly cringed as Rose's heart sank well below her feet.

"Ignore him," Draco said even more quietly than his father, beginning to walk again, disregarding Lucius's question completely.

Rose knew the history of the Malfoy family quite well, including the darker bits about Lucius and Draco being Death Eaters, but she never saw the Dark aspect of the family in anything Scorpius did or said. At last, however, she was able to see exactly why they had such a reputation: the look of pure hatred in Lucius's eyes at the sight of Rose was enough to explain everything.

Her morale was just dropped down dramatically, all nerves she had before dropping down to the pit of her stomach like a ton of lead that'd been frozen for weeks.

"My father is much less open-minded about things," Draco said clearly from in front of her, not glancing back.

This hardly helped anything.

"The idea of anyone not of pureblood status having anything to do with this family repulses him, as it probably does many other of our ancestors," His voice was just a little more sympathetic when he said this.

Rose looked at her slipper-clad feet.

"Astoria and I, however, we are happy that someone has accepted Scorpius for whom and what he is, regardless of whom you or your parents are." Draco finally looked back at her, a smile barely pulling up the edges of his mouth.

Rose didn't even notice that they'd stopped until Draco opened a door in front of them, revealing a spacious, darkly earth-toned dining room furnished with an antique table and four high-backed chairs.

The man walked straight over to one side of the square table, pulling out the seat and gesturing for Rose to sit down.

She nearly tripped over her own feet (_Why do I have to be so damn clumsy?_) in her haste to sit down. Draco sat directly across from her, setting his coffee mug down in front of him.

Appearing out of thin air, one plump House Elf stood beside the table, awaiting a command.

"Eggs and toast for me," Draco said quickly, looking at Rose for her order.

"Toast will be fine, thank you," She felt quite flustered still.

"And pumpkin juice for both of us," He didn't even look at the elf, who bowed deep to the ground and disappeared again.

Rose fiddled with the fabric of her pants to occupy her hands, which were otherwise shaking.

"So," Draco cleared his throat, "How did you get here?"

The redhead actually cracked a smile as she explained, "I used the fireplace in Professor McGonagall's office,"

"And did she know that you were using her fireplace?" One side of his mouth angled up.

"No sir, she didn't." She looked down, but peeked up through her lashes.

He chuckled lightly. "And didn't you think it was a bit reckless to sneak out of school to sit with a werewolf all night?"

"Yes, actually." Rose was feeling bolder every second. "I felt kind of bad for sneaking out, but I thought it was worth it. Plus, I knew that Scorpius wasn't going to hurt me,"

"How?"

"I was with him last month as well,"

He nodded in understanding. "Haven't you ever thought that it was a bad idea to be friends with a werewolf?"

She could feel his intent stare, and decided to tell him the whole truth. "To be honest, no. I never really thought that he was dangerous, since I knew he took Wolfsbane, so the only thing I would be risking would be my reputation. And since I don't particularly care what others think of me, I was fine with it. If they judge us, it's their problem, and I just feel bad that they're never going to get to know someone like him."

He leaned back in his chair, obviously impressed by something she'd said.

Two different Elves appeared then, bustling around to hand them their plates and cups before leaving as quickly as possible.

Rose picked one of two perfectly cooked pieces of toast with a hand that was much steadier than before, lightly nibbling on the corner. In all honestly, she felt a bit too queasy to be hungry at all.

Silverware hit against china for a few moments before Draco spoke again, having just swallowed a chunk of fluffy scrambled eggs. "How long have you known?"

"Since the beginning of November," She said proudly.

"And it's May now?"

She nodded.

"You've been loyal to the secret this long," He raised his eyebrows in surprise and approval. "Thank you for that,"

Rose shrugged nonchalantly. "It wasn't too hard of a decision to make. I knew that telling his secret meant losing him, and I've never wanted that."

Draco tilted his head downward toward his plate, but kept glancing up at Rose. "You seem to really care for him."

"I do," She grinned, but immediately afterward wondered why in the world she was being so open with Scorpius's father…

"If you don't mind me asking," He cleared his throat, pausing to take another bite, "How _much_ do you care for him?"

Her gaze went to the crumb-covered plate in front of her, her skin feeling flushed again. "I…" She paused, weighing out the pros and cons of telling Mr. Malfoy everything that'd been reluctant to even admit to herself… with a heavy sigh, she decided that if someone would understand without prejudice, it would be Scorpius's father.

Draco looked at her intently.

"It wasn't like… I didn't have some sort of dramatic epiphany or anything; it was just an idea that I sort of settled into. I'm sure it had been there since a long time ago but… sorry for being so blunt, I love your son." Rose blushed furiously to the roots of her hair.

Draco's eyes widened, and his hands tensed slightly around his silverware, but he didn't say anything.

Rose fiddled with something in her lap, avoiding the silver eyes almost identical to the ones she'd fallen for. "I'm sorry."

A light chuckle sounded from the man.

She looked up to see him smiling.

"I thought as much," He nodded, though his eyes still looked hard. Leaning back again, he manually Vanished the plates in front of them, Rose having finished the toast rather hastily after she'd spoken.

"Rose, I can't say that I wouldn't rather him end up with someone else, or end up in a different situation than what he's in now, but I'm very grateful that there is someone besides myself and Astoria who care so much for Scorpius." His eyes locked with hers, again making her feel like shrinking into herself.

"Dad?"

Both people at the table perked up at the sound of Scorpius's voice.

Rose stood up immediately, waiting for when he would walk in. Draco, however, remained sitting casually, one leg crossed over the other, reclining just slightly in his seat. He was the picture of indifference, an almost comical contrast to Rose's tense appearance.

"Rose." Draco said shortly from behind her.

The redhead whipped her head toward the man, her entire body feeling rather flushed all of a sudden.

The man gave her a look that quite plaintively said "_calm down_".

A heavy breath escaped her mouth as she heard footsteps approaching more loudly. This time, she didn't mistake them for her heartbeat.

"Dad?"

"In here, son," Draco said, his voice raised just slightly.

Scorpius's form appeared in the room soon after, his face looking the slightest bit glazed over until his eyes met Rose.

Rose reddened under his gaze, suddenly feeling more self-conscious than normal because of what she'd just told Draco, which was something she actually hadn't admitted to anyone aloud.

"Shouldn't you be back at school?" Scorpius asked in a tone more puzzled than demanding.

"Yeah, um, your dad and I were just having breakfast," She said, her voice a bit more unsteady than she would've liked.

"Now that you're up, why don't you show Rose to the fireplace?" Draco interjected, looking from Rose to Scorpius, visually tasting the electric atmosphere.

The younger blond nodded dutifully, and gestured for Rose to follow him.

"Bye Mister Malfoy, thank you for the breakfast," She said politely, grinning at the older man, who just nodded soberly and, so subtly that she thought she might've imagined it, winked as she turned back toward the entranceway.

"How are you feeling?" Rose asked, falling into step with Scorpius about halfway down the hallway with the portraits. She pointedly kept her eyes on him and ignored all of the haughty stares from the late Malfoys.

"Sick," He grunted. He was indeed looking rather pale that morning, his usually-lively mercury eyes a bit harder, a bit more unfocused.

"I'm sorry," She said sincerely.

He shrugged. "I'm used to it by now,"

"Shouldn't you be in bed still?" Her mind was flashing back to mornings spent in the hospital wing, where he would sleep so soundly, so peacefully.

He nodded gravely. "I couldn't sleep once I woke up." His voice was quiet, but it still echoed slightly in the long, empty hallway Rose hardly remembered turning down.

"Why not?" Her brow furrowed; she was feeling more maternal every word he spoke, like a stand-in Madame Pomfrey.

Glancing almost nervously towards Rose, Scorpius replied, "Because you weren't there."

She could feel heat creeping up her cheeks, but she didn't acknowledge it. Unable to form a response, she just nodded, feeling affection for him expand in her chest.

He coughed quietly, stumbling a bit.

"Whoa," Reaching her hands out toward him, she had to support some of his weight in order to keep him upright.

"Sorry," He mumbled hastily, "Lightheaded,"

"You need to sleep, Scorpius," The stern tone she intended to use melted halfway up her throat into a concerned, almost desperately so, one.

"I _need_ a potion for this damned headache," He pressed his palms into his eyes, which were lined with deep purplish circles.

Rose could only watch his misery from beside him, unable to do anything to help.

They walked in silence for as long as Rose could stand—which was only about ten meters at a steady walking pace.

"So what have you been doing when you're here?" _Because that's just about all I think about when I'm at school_, she wanted to add.

He looked at her with a look mixed between pain, jealousy, and amusement. "Schoolwork, mostly. And sleep." He paused.

She nodded, nonverbally urging him to continue.

"Sometimes I go talk to Mum, but I know it only hurts her to know that I'm not at school. So mostly, I stay in my room and read the texts or my other books, or roam around the house. I think there's still an entire wing of this place that I've never been in, honestly." All of his words seemed careful, measured, like everything he was saying was actually hurting him, which, knowing how his throat would sometimes hurt the morning after the moon, was highly possible.

Rose nodded again, soaking all of the words into one large sponge of sympathy in the pit of her stomach. The blatant misery on his face and in his voice was enough to bring tears up behind her lids. She could feel it as well, a strange sort of empathy that she couldn't place.

"How about you? How is school?" The edge behind his voice explained fully that there was certain information he was seeking.

"Things are surprisingly the same as before." They turned another corner. "Everyone has calmed down a lot about the whole situation, so I don't have to yell at nearly as many people these days," She smiled in a fully self-satisfied way, recalling a few of the sweeter victories when she'd nearly reduced a few people to tears after her accusations that they were being bigoted and stupid. Very craftily, she'd never actually confirmed nor denied the fact that Scorpius was a werewolf, only offering responses that averted the questions directly.

Hope flickered momentarily in his eyes, but soon died down. Rose felt a certain emptiness when she saw the light behind them dim to indifference again. It was just like when they were first becoming friends, and he was offhand about everything, cold in a way, but never offered more than a shrug or a disinterested stare.

"And Scamander?"

She felt pure aversion twisting a cruel knot in her stomach. "He was hardly punished at all. Only for 'disrupting the peace' during Dinner or something… I asked McGonagall why he was let off so lightly, and she said that she couldn't punish him too drastically for something no one was confirming or denying. As long as the school doesn't quite _know_ you're a werewolf, it's more like a 'don't shoot the messenger' situation." She rambled darkly.

The shadows on his face seemed to get darker, lines deeper, aging him greatly in a half-second transition. "I understand her reasoning," He said choppily.

"I wish there was something else they could do, though," She sighed.

"As do I," He nodded solemnly again.

The pair walked up a flight of stairs, and turned another corner. After a few steps in quiet, Scorpius moved to face the third door on the left of the hall, opening the door to reveal the miniature library Rose had only seen from the perspective of the fireplace. It seemed even darker, but still cozier, from an upright point of view.

Her heart was feeling heavier and heavier every second she dawdled, trying to prolong the few moments they still had together. She felt an almost magnetic force holding her to the place, the want (need?) to stay with Scorpius almost painful.

"Did you use McGonagall's fireplace again?" He asked, his words still a bit clipped, eyes shining with emotion as he stopped just in front of the fireplace, where a few weak embers still burned.

She nodded, afraid that if she spoke she would begin crying.

"Rose," His eyes burned into hers, "Don't be so reckless."

Heat suddenly rushed behind her eyes and nose, and she had to blink back a new wave of tears. Unable to form a response to the intensity of his voice, she took a step forward and gingerly wrapped her arms around his middle, fisting her hands in the back of the blue t-shirt and laying her head against his chest; the new contact got her heart racing from the pit of her stomach.

She felt his arms move around her shoulders, pulling her in even closer. The sound of his heartbeat, the warmth of his arms, the feel of his breath barely moving the strands of hair on top of her head were all contributing to the bipolar feelings in her stomach, bouncing between ecstasy and misery and everywhere in between.

The few seconds they spent in that simple embrace with some sort of unspeakable electricity and fire spanned over the course of a few days in Rose's odd state of being where everything was slower, every sense was on edge… she could hear, smell, touch, taste, see everything at once in a feeling of seclusion between the two.

Rose squeezed her eyes shut, never wanting to let go.

Scorpius tensed his arms before loosening them, stepping backwards from the unwilling redhead, lightly resting his hands on her upper arms.

Her heart pounded; the look he was giving her was something entirely new. His eyes (so deep and excited and such a perfect color…) were slowly searching her face, languidly sweeping from her forehead down her jaw line, up her flushed cheekbones to her anxious eyes, back down her thin nose, and finally landing on her slightly parted pink lips.

Her breath came out in a light shudder, her eyes unconsciously doing the same thing his just were… she traced his face before the only thing focused in her vision was his mouth… how perfectly would it fit with hers?

His Adam's-apple bobbed, his grip getting just slightly tighter on her arms.

She couldn't have moved if she wanted to… she felt frozen to the spot, her hands still weakly fisted in the sides of his shirt, eyes still glued to his lips.

Scorpius's tongue flicked out, licking across his bottom lip in a gesture that seemed more nervous than teasing.

She let out another shuddering breath.

"Are you going to go back to school?" He asked in a quiet, slightly gravelly voice, his hands unclenching.

The sensation of a ghost walking through her was felt in the girl once more as her reverie was broken, her eyes darting up to meet his eyes. She nodded weakly, letting go of his shirt entirely in a lethargic movement. Her feet stepped backwards on their accord, and a slightly-shaking hand grasped a handful of black powder from what looked rather like an ashtray on the mantle, her eyes never leaving his.

He offered a tight smile, his posture now making him look on edge.

Breaking eye contact with him finally, she ducked into the fireplace.

"Bye, Scorpius," She said, her voice nearly breaking.

"Bye Rose," He replied almost indifferently.

She threw the powder down and stated "Hogwarts" just quickly enough to prevent Scorpius from seeing a tear fall down her cheek.

The dizzying movements of traveling by Floo Powder didn't even compare to the dizzying sensation she got from that last encounter with her best friend. It was… indescribable, how so many thoughts and none at all were flying through her head, how her heart was pounding and her hands were shaking, how she felt as she saw the quick swipe of his tongue across his lip…

She staggered just a bit as the spinning came to an abrupt stop. Her eyes were still shut tightly, dreading what she would see when she opened them. Rose knew fully well that she'd landed in McGonagall's office, but she also knew that it was around midday by now, and the Headmistress might be in her office, ready to catch her in the act of sneaking back _in_ to school.

The turning in her stomach was nearly enough to cloud all reason that would've influenced her actions. Opening her eyes slowly, she began to walk forward through the wall of green flame in front of her.

* * *

**A/N: **Tension! I can't get enough of it XD

Haha, I love chapters where it takes 13 pages to get to the climax, but just a few sentences to get the falling action and resolution… they are so disappoint.

Sorry, but I don't know whether or not chapter 15 is going to be up sooner than usual… keep your fingers crossed? And _**review**_ because it makes me love you even more. The latest it'll be up is Friday, though. Promise :D

It's never too late to _**Story Alert **_this! Just saying!

K. Done for the time being.

_KitKat Pyrophobia_


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer:** I do not, nor will I ever, have any rights to anything related to Harry Potter.

**A/N: **Updated this fine Wednesday because I love me some Amy (XxrandomxX) :D

Soo, tell me how it makes sense that it took me _over _three weeks to write the last chapter, but two days to write this one? Haha, I don't understand myself sometimes :D

Okay, picking up right where the last chapter left off… but from Scorpius's view!

* * *

"_I must be cruel, only to be kind: Thus bad begins and worse remains behind."_

Hamlet, Act 3 Scene 4

* * *

"Did you show Rose out?" Draco asked in a stern tone as Scorpius walked back through the entrance of the dining room.

"Yes Father," The younger Malfoy responded hollowly.

"You should sit down, Son." It was apparent that Scorpius didn't have a choice in the matter.

Legs feeling rather numb, Scorpius walked towards the table and pulled out the same chair Rose was sitting in and sat down rigidly.

"Did you ask her to stay with you yesterday?" He was rather accusatory, his stare sharp.

"No, I had no part in her decision to do that. I didn't even know she was coming until she showed up in my room just before sunset." The younger man's voice was monotone, though he felt many emotions sweeping through his mind in a large, confusing blur.

Draco nodded, his face now contemplative. He raised his glass to his lips in a way that Scorpius knew he always did when he was about to say something that was going to get a reaction. Scorpius readied himself. "So you're very close with this girl?"

Scorpius swallowed, knowing the answer his father was looking for, but not wanting to say it aloud when he'd just accepted it himself. "Yes, she's my best friend."

"Is she now?" The older Malfoy studied his long fingers that were drumming casually on the table with skeptical eyes.

"Yes," He could tell that the uneasiness he felt was being projected on his face by the way his father's lips were curling upward.

"And is that all?"

He swallowed again, unwilling to come up with an immediate answer. The fact that his father had made peace with Rose showed him that he wouldn't be judged for how he felt, but he was still afraid of the stress that would be put on the situation if he actually admitted it out loud…

"Dad, I know what answer you're looking for," Scorpius began, shutting his eyes as the emotion in his voice flicked back on, his entire body waking a bit more every second, "And what you're most likely thinking is true. But… she deserves better," He looked away at some medieval sculpture or another, his fists clenched atop the stone table.

"Better?" Draco asked incredulously, seeming genuinely surprised by his son's answer.

"Better than me." His slightly-trembling voice was barely above a whisper as his world came crashing down in front of him. "I'm a _werewolf_. Look at her: she can get any whole, healthy person she wants," There was too much physical and emotional pain accumulating to even realize it all. He could feel his heartbeat becoming more labored, more strained, as if there was a new addition of an iron cage encasing his heart.

"But she _wants_ you," The older man said with solid confidence.

Scorpius looked down at his fists, shaking his head in both denial and the slightest bit of shame.

"Scorpius," The commanding tenor of his father's voice caused his son's head to slowly level with his, "There's something more than just friendship there, or else she wouldn't have remained this loyal for this long,"

His brow furrowed as he felt offended, "Are you saying she had an ulterior motive this entire time?" He demanded hotly.

"No," Draco was being surprisingly patient, "I'm saying that she has a genuine want to keep you safe and happy, real love for you as a person."

The anger he felt faded entirely as his father's uncharacteristically honest, complaisant words hit a certain place in his heart, causing it to expand slightly with hope from within its iron sheath. "What did she say?" He asked in a way that he hoped sounded detached, but actually came out just the opposite.

"I think the finer points of the conversation should stay private between her and I,"

Scorpius looked down at his hands again, slightly disappointed.

"However," Glancing back up, the younger man saw that his father's face held a slightly amused smile, "In general terms, she told me that she feels sorry for the people who never got to know you,"

An uncontrollable smile settled onto Scorpius's face.

"And also that she'd felt a _certain way_ for quite a long time, but has recently begun to realize exactly what she was feeling."

The smile only grew wider, much to Scorpius's conscious disdain and unconscious celebration. By the way his father was oh-so-subtly hinting at what Rose really meant, Scorpius's heart soared as his feelings were reciprocated by the girl. His stomach turned in an oddly satisfying way. "I see," He said in a redundantly indifferent tone that completely offset his truly happy expression. For a moment, he forgot all about the sickness he was feeling or the reason why he felt it. He forgot the lonely disappointment that came with being at home instead of school. He forgot about Lorcan Scamander and how everything was his fault. He forgot about the fact that he knew he wasn't good for Rose on the plane of friendship, let alone romantic involvement.

He could forget everything, for just a moment, because Rose felt the same way he did.

Scorpius felt like he was on top of the world.

He knew it would be rash to act on anything so soon, so eagerly, but there was one thing he was certain of: he wanted to see her. He wanted to be with her for more than just a few hours. He wanted to be human at that time. He didn't want her to have to leave after a short time, and he didn't want his own personal limitations to get in the way. And he _didn't _want to have to wait until the next full moon for it to happen.

"Dad, I want to go back to school," The young blond said. He could feel a new sort of energy flowing through his body head to toe, the kind that he couldn't place and didn't want to.

"Really?" Draco asked, confused about this reaction. He might've expected the smile, the quiet reflection, the new way he held himself as if he was suddenly more confident in the way he was being perceived… he didn't, however, account for the abrupt conversation change to Hogwarts.

"Yes," He said brightly, feeling better than he had in weeks.

"All right," The man said slowly, "I can ask McGonagall when you can go back,"

"Thank you," He stood up, turning to the door, his mind on one thing (person, actually).

"You don't want any breakfast, Son?" Draco asked from the table, still trying to catch up to the conversation.

"I'm not hungry, thanks," He called back, already partially down the hallway.

If Scorpius were to look at his behavior from outside his body, he would've shaken his head and rolled his eyes, probably scoffing, "Love-struck teenager." But he was too excited to really care how he was coming off. Though he'd barely accepted his own feelings for Rose (in all honesty, they'd probably been there since before Christmas), knowing that she felt the same took a huge weight off his shoulders. For a reason he couldn't explain, it made him feel like it'd be even better to be around her now, even though he didn't plan to act on anything, like he wouldn't have to be careful or secluded. Because she loved him too.

_She loved him_.

The grin still hadn't disappeared from his face, and he figured it wouldn't for a while.

Arriving in his room, he promptly sat down at his desk and readied his quill and parchment.

"_Dear Rose,_"

Grabbing his wand from his waistband, he quickly, embarrassedly, erased this from the page.

"_Rose—_

_I'm coming back to school. I'm not sure when, since Dad hasn't even asked McGonagall yet. But she said that I was allowed to come back any time I wanted, so I'm choosing now. Or rather, in the near future. I just thought you should be the first to know." _

He held the quill idle above the paper for a minute, contemplating whether or not to write what was on his mind. Licking his lips (where the smile had somewhat faded to a small upturning of the corners of his mouth), he scribed the last remark.

"_Thanks for being there yesterday._

_Scorpius_"

Pleased enough with what he wrote, he put it into an envelope, and wrote "Rose Weasley" on the outside. He walked over to the large double French doors that led to his balcony and walked outside into the fairly chilly May afternoon.

Leaning serenely against the railing on the balcony, he waited for one of the handsome black owls to swoop down and take the letter from his hand like always.

He exhaled a deep breath, rationality falling into his conscious once again in small little snippets of thought still clouded by happiness.

_You're a werewolf. _She knew that. And still she stayed around.

_You could hurt her._ He hadn't yet, had he?

_You have a horrible reputation over your head._ She'd been defending him day one. She never cared that he was a Malfoy, or a werewolf.

_Everyone knows that you're a werewolf now._ Did everyone else matter, really?

_Lorcan is going to have a field day. _Let him.

_Werewolves mate for life. _Good thing he didn't plan on mating, then.

_You two can never be together. _It didn't matter. He could still be with her. They could feel the way they wanted to.

_But you want to be together with her._ It was still too dangerous for her, and he knew that. There was still a line that had to be drawn. She still deserved a future.

_You're not good enough for her._ No one was good enough for Rose. She deserved someone who could actually give her what she wanted from life, however, and he knew that he couldn't ever really do that. Still, she loved him for that immediate time, and he planned to make the most of it. He didn't care if he got hurt in the end. As long as she was happy.

Scorpius didn't even notice that an owl had taken his letter, but when he looked down at his hand, it was gone.

Now that the exemption from anything negative had died down just a bit, he was able to feel the effects of the after-moon sickness weighing him down again. It was miserable at best.

Feeling suddenly exhausted over all the optimism, he backed into his room and climbed into bed once again, ready to sleep the day away.

The last thing he noticed through his dizzy haze was that everything seemed a little colder without her beside him.

* * *

"Sneaking out of school is quite a serious offense, Miss Weasley," McGonagall's reprimands somehow seemed halfhearted.

Rose fiddled with her hands that were behind her back, looking down at the floor.

"Would you care to explain your reasoning before I deduct fifty points from your House and proceed to write your parents, alerting them of your offense, not to mention assign you to a month's worth of detentions?" Her lips pressed into a thin line, her posture intimidating even though she was hardly taller than Rose.

Rose racked her brain for an excuse that would be acceptable to the woman. She knew that James had a reserve of them on hand at all time for when he and Fred inevitably got in trouble, and now she wished she'd asked him for a few that one time when he offered them to her…

"I didn't want Scorpius to be alone on the full moon," She blurted out instead of the well-orchestrated thoughts that were forming in her mind.

McGonagall's eyes softened slightly, though the thin line of her mouth still remained. "Miss Weasley," She shook her head.

Rose looked back down, awaiting the exact punishment the woman had just detailed for her.

"That is exactly something your parents would have done in their day. Blatantly disregard the rules for the sake of one of their close friends," There was now a hint of a proud smile on her face.

Rose smiled back weakly.

"However, as your parents can vouch for, there have always been consequences for breaking the rules here at Hogwarts. I think ten points from Gryffindor and three hours of detention with Professor Scamander should do just fine. Friday evening, I think, beginning promptly at five o'clock by the north side of the Forbidden Forest. That will be all." The woman peered intensely over her square spectacles.

Rose's eyes widened, legitimately shocked that she'd gotten off so easy. She nodded, unable to voice a proper thanks, and walked toward the door.

Her hand was on the door handle when McGonagall spoke again.

"And Miss Weasley?"

She looked back expectantly.

"Don't let me _catch _you again." The smile was there again.

Rose grinned widely as she caught on to what she was saying. "Yes ma'am," She nodded, and almost skipped out of the room.

* * *

May 6

"_Scorpius—_

_That's so great! I'm so happy, you have no idea! Tell me when you find out when you'll be back?_

_Rose"_

_

* * *

_May 7

"_Rose—_

_Dad asked McGonagall, and she said it'd be best for me to come back on the 14__th__, a week from today. I'm really glad to be going back._

_Scorpius"_

_

* * *

_May 8

"_Scorpius—_

_That's really good. I can't wait for you to get back… I love talking to my family and the rest of my friends and all, but nothing can beat having a conversation with you._

_Oh, also,__ I have a detention on Friday with Professor Scamander for sneaking out. I was surprised that I got off so easy, but I'll take it! _

_Rose"_

_

* * *

_May 9

"_Rose—_

_Professor Scamander? Is that Lorcan's mother?_

_Scorpius"_

_

* * *

_May 10

"_Scorpius—_

_Yes, that's her. Luna Scamander. She's nothing like you'd expect her to be, though, with a son like Lorcan. She's been over at my house a ton because she and my parents are good friends, and she's really nice. Kind of weird, but still nice. Nothing like Lorcan at all. It makes me wonder where he got it…_

_Rose"_

_

* * *

_May 11

"_Rose—_

_I kind of feel sorry that Professor Scamander has to deal with having him as a son._

_Scorpius"_

_

* * *

_May 12

"_Scorpius—_

_Well, she also has Lysander, though. And Lysander is Head Boy and all… not to mention Captain of the Quidditch team, so I think that they pay more attention to Lysander than Lorcan.__ I mean, it makes sense. It explains why Lysander is such a nice guy compared to him too. I don't think Luna would be capable of raising someone like Lorcan anyway without something else acting on it, too. She's too nice._

_You come back in two days!_

_Anyway, I have to go to the detention now. Wish me luck?_

_Rose"_

_

* * *

_May 12

"_Scorpius—_

_Merlin, I'm sorry! I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry…_

_Tonight in the detention, Luna was asking me about me and Lorcan's "relationship", and I told her basically what I told everyone else about it just not working out… but then she said something about you, and how you were a werewolf, and there were supposed to be werewolves in the forest, and I don't know what happened, but somehow the entire story came pouring out! I told her everything… like the reason why I was with Lorcan, and the reason why you pounced on him… I'm so sorry! She got really mad and shocked and whatever else, and now she wants to have a meeting between your parents, my parents, and her because of what happened… so on the day you get back, you have that to look forward to… I'm so sorry, Scorpius, I really am. This is all my fault. I know you wanted to keep this low-key… Lorcan is getting all of the attention that he wanted and it's my fault…_

_I'm sorry._

_Rose"_

_

* * *

_Scorpius opened up his wardrobe once more to try to find his favorite gray and black striped sweater to pack for school, but once again his search came up empty. He'd had the rest of his trunk packed since he found out what day he was going back, and now he was just checking and re-checking it in the same anxious haze he had on August thirty-first every year. The only thing he couldn't find for the life of him was his sweater.

Knuckles rapped against his doorframe. "Scorpius?"

Scorpius looked up from the seemingly never-ending contents of his trunk to see his father hovering in the doorway.

"Are we going?" Draco asked, eyebrows raised slightly, with a cold look in his eyes that'd been present since two days prior, when Headmistress McGonagall had contacted him about the meeting that Professor Scamander had requested. He'd been incredibly on edge since then, trying to extract as much prologue about the situation from his son as possible to no avail.

Nodding somewhat solemnly, the younger man closed and latched the trunk, tapping the top and muttering the incantation of the Featherweight Charm before picking it up easily with one hand a following a few paces behind his father to the nearest fireplace.

Scorpius wished his return would be less bittersweet, but he was glad to be going back anyway. He expected to feel nervous, if anything, but didn't. The only emotions he felt were positive ones, his thoughts full of flashes of busy classrooms and Rose Weasley. It was almost as if the short stay at his house was a blessing in disguise: exactly what he needed in order to sort and figure things out. If he'd stayed in school, what would he have had to deal with? Surely, people's reactions would have caused his already-negative outlook to drop downhill into the red even further. But from Malfoy Manor, he was able to finally see that, even if it was something that probably would be mutual on the other's part forever, something was shining a benevolent light on his life. He finally realized what he'd been taking for granted in his life, like his wealth, his intelligence, his parents' love. He finally saw that he really _wasn't _alone in this… there were people who cared enough about him to bother at all with his jaded, broody self. There was a bigger picture than just his malady: something to live for.

"You go first, Scorpius," Draco was quiet and commanding.

His son nodded, stepping forward into the flames with his trunk. Grabbing a handful of sooty powder and throwing it down in quick succession, he clearly said, "Hogwarts," in a voice that betrayed his excitement before being pulled from his feet into a spiraling method of travel.

The world spun rapidly around him in a way that took much too long in Scorpius's opinion.

The passageway to the Headmistress's office zoomed closer and closer at the same quick rate Scorpius's heart was beating. The force of his stopping so suddenly knocked his knees backward into a sore locked position; a shiver ran through his entire body uncomfortably, but he shook the discomfort away and ducked out from under the mantle, dusting ashes off his black trousers and matching shirt.

He froze again as soon as he saw the occupants of the office.

McGonagall, as always, sat rigid and strong behind her desk. Across from her were five chairs all lined up neatly; four of them were already occupied by a few familiar faces.

"That's new," A man Scorpius easily recognized as Ron Weasley said interestedly from the chair at the very end, closest to him.

"The fireplace was installed when they re-built the castle after the War, Ron, don't you remember?" He also recalled this woman who pushed bushy brown hair out of her eyes, but from pictures in news articles and history books rather than real-life contact. She was Hermione Weasley, his wife.

"Well I wasn't really around for the re-building, was I?" Ron countered.

"Oh I was," A woman with long blond hair who was quite familiar from school, Professor Luna Scamander, interjected in a dreamy sort of voice. "For parts of it, actually. It was all very beautiful."

Scorpius looked at the two empty seats beside the woman and assumed that they were for his parents. Behind the line of five chairs were three more: two were pushed close together to the back of Rose's parents, and one was further away, tucked behind where Astoria was most likely going to sit. Rose, a worried, shameful expression on her face, sat in one of the two that were together; Lorcan Scamander sat in the solitary one, looking apprehensive with just a hint of self-satisfaction.

The young Malfoy nodded politely to the group of adults and promptly crossed over to where Rose was, setting down his trunk and sitting beside her.

She smiled weakly up at him.

Though he felt all eyes on him, Scorpius let his impulse take over. He returned the smile, leaving over the arms of the chairs to wrap his arms firmly around her shoulders.

It was obvious that she was surprised by the contact by the way that she hesitated before returning the embrace enthusiastically.

"I'm sorry that you have to deal with this," Rose said in a volume that probably didn't even carry to the seats right in front of them; Scorpius heard it loudly and clearly.

"I don't mind. As long as I'm back," He whispered simply, honestly, before pulling back and pointedly ignoring the fact that Lorcan was gawking at them.

Rose drew her legs up to her chest and crossed her arms over her knees, lying her head down, looking thoroughly miserable.

At that moment, the warm, comfortable atmosphere of the room was given a start as Draco Malfoy came stumbling (with dignity, mind) out of the fireplace, scowling and gingerly wiping soot from his dapper traveling cloak. He gave the room a once-over before sitting down in the seat beside Luna, crossing his arms as a dark aura erupted around him.

Right after Draco sat down, Astoria Malfoy came almost prancing out of the emerald flames, looking from face to face with a worried, maternal look on her face. There was a feeling in the room that they were ready to begin, so the curly-haired woman scurried to the spot reserved for her beside her husband.

Scorpius could already feel the tension thickening in the minutes the nine of them sat in silence to a point of near-suffocation… he wanted someone to say something and break the awful silence…

"So why are we here?" Draco finally shattered the silence with his superior tone.

"Missus Scamander requested a meeting with you parents to discuss a very serious matter regarding your children."

"And that is…?" Astoria asked, genuinely interested, leaning forward in her seat in order to get a clearer look at Luna, who had been braiding her hair in the time no one was speaking.

"Well, Rose and I were talking the other day, and I asked her how she and my son got along, and why they broke up earlier this year."

Rose's eyes shut tightly from beside Scorpius. He reached a hand out and rubbed her shoulder in a comforting manner with a tense hand. The dread he was ignoring earlier was now becoming much more apparent.

"And?" Hermione asked.

"And Rose told me a very sad, very interesting story about how my son blackmailed Scorpius and Rose." The shame in Luna's voice was enough to cause hearts to squeeze painfully all throughout the room.

Scorpius glanced at Lorcan. The honey-blond boy was shrinking more and more into his chair with every word his mother spoke.

"Blackmail?" Draco demanded, staring sharply at Scorpius, whose face remained impressively blank.

"Oh yes. What Rose told me was that Lorcan threatened to tell the school Scorpius's secret if Rose didn't go out with him." The usually ethereal former-Lovegood had the most serious, focused look on her face that Scorpius had ever seen.

Four pairs of raised eyebrows turned to look from Rose to Scorpius to Lorcan.

"Why didn't you tell me this, Scorpius?" Astoria asked delicately.

Scorpius swallowed. "I didn't want to give Lorcan the satisfaction of knowing he got to me." He replied truthfully.

"Son, this isn't like any other bully you've had." Draco shook his head, looking his son dead in the eyes, the authority in the aged gray ones making Scorpius want to recoil. He didn't.

"Blackmail is punishable by law," Ron agreed, nodding vigorously.

"Especially considering your circumstances, Scorpius. He could've gotten into a lot of trouble for what he did." Hermione's maternal tone made him feel like he was being berated by someone in higher power than his own mother.

"'Circumstances'? So I get special treatment because I'm not human?" He asked, ice in his voice.

"No, but you do have a few different rules because of it. Anyone who threatens the well-being of a werewolf can be thrown in Azkaban as soon as you want. And that includes the physical _or_ emotional well-being."

Ron's words suddenly transported Scorpius's mind back to the hospital room in late August, when Harry Potter told him nearly the exact same thing. "Well, it's a bit too late for that, isn't it?"

"Not really, actually—"

"Rosie, why didn't _you_ tell anyone?" Hermione asked gently to her daughter, who was now biting at her sleeve.

"It's his secret, not mine." She replied quietly.

"But you still were affected by it," Ron said firmly.

"It kept Scorpius safe, though, didn't it?" Rose countered just as strongly.

Ron's brow furrowed, and he opened his mouth to say something.

"It doesn't matter whether we did or didn't tell anyone, because he told either way." Scorpius cut the man off before he could speak. "And by having this meeting because of what happened, you're giving him the attention he wanted in the first place." Anger colored his words.

"Why did you tell, Lorcan?" Luna demanded from her son, whose face was red as Ron's hair by now.

The younger Scamander's mouth opened and closed a few times, but no sound came out.

"He told because he called off the deal we'd made. And he called it off because I nearly attacked him during the full moon." Scorpius said stiffly.

"What?" Five voices chorused.

"He came into the room where I'd transformed, where Rose already was, and tried to take her from the room by force, and so my temper got the best of me and I pounced on him, and apparently scratched him, but didn't do any real damage." Scorpius honestly didn't see the point in telling anything but the whole truth, even though re-living this chilled him straight to the bone in a wave of negativity that he'd been trying so hard to avoid.

"And, for this, he told?" McGonagall spoke for the first time in quite a while.

Scorpius nodded silently. He hated the fact that Lorcan was getting what he ultimately wanted: a commotion between a group of influential people because of something he did. He was fine with the boy going unpunished, because it would mean that he didn't get the attention he wanted…

There was another awkward, tense silence that lasted long enough for Luna to undo and re-braid her hair all the way to the waist-length ends.

Suddenly enough to cause everyone in the room to jump, Draco stood up, the chair clattering to the floor behind him. "Why didn't you _tell _anyone, Scorpius? Why didn't you tell _me_?" He raised his voice in a way that caused his wife and son to wince.

Scorpius stood as well, refusing to _not_ have control over the situation. "So you could do what? Inflate his ego even more by showing him that I couldn't handle anything by myself? Showing him that I needed help with everything? I _handled _it myself, Dad!"

"And that's why you've been at home for the past month?" Draco's voice was quiet and deadly.

It felt as though Scorpius had been hit over the head with a hammer, or a Full-Body Bind. He let out a shuddering breath, letting his rage level before speaking again in an even tone. "It could have been avoided. And I realize that. But I don't see the point in making such a big deal out of something that's been over since I came home last month."

"The 'big deal', Scorpius, is that Lorcan still deserves to be given consequences for what he did to you and Rose." Luna interjected rationally.

All eight heads in the room snapped towards Lorcan as he audibly gasped.

"What do you suggest?" Astoria asked to the other parents, ignoring Lorcan.

"Azkaban would be the first option, but I doubt Luna would want her son going… and Scorpius doesn't seem to be very keen on the idea, either." Ron half-grinned at Scorpius, whose face easily said he did _not_ want to send Lorcan to Azkaban.

"I want Lorcan to get what he deserves," Luna said coldly.

"What do you think is appropriate, Mister Weasley?" Professor McGonagall asked, her lips a thin white line.

Ron looked contemplative for a moment, almost as if he was trying to remember something specific from years before when he was an Auror. "I think it would be appropriate to hand this over to Harry. He knows much more on the subject than I do. But, for the time being, I think he should at least be suspended from school."

"So be it, then." McGonagall nodded, looking suddenly severe. "Mister Scamander, please go pack your things immediately, and come straight back into this office to await further instruction. Weasley, do you think Potter will be available for a meeting right now?"

"I'm not sure, Professor, but I think so."

She nodded, and looked at the young pair sitting behind Ron. "Mister Malfoy, Miss Weasley, if you want to stay, you can. If not, you can leave as well."

Scorpius stood immediately, grabbing his trunk and nearly sprinting to the doorway. "Goodbye," He said hastily to everyone before opening the door and continuing out.

"Scorpius, wait up!"

Honestly, he should have known that Rose would be right behind him. Smiling slightly to himself in spite of everything that'd happened, he slowed his pace and waited for her to catch up.

"Are you all right?" She asked.

He rounded a corner into one of the main hallways. "Yes, I'm fine." He responded honestly. "Are you?"

She nodded, and continued looking at him strangely.

It was after bedtime, so the hallways were nearly completely empty, save for ghosts and chatting portraits that all seemed very interested in his arrival.

"What?" He asked after a minute, noticing the way she was staring.

"Why are you so… unaffected by what just happened?" Rose asked, her brow furrowed.

Scorpius thought about this for a moment, wanting to formulate the most truthful answer he could instead of the most immediate. "I really _don't _care what happens to Lorcan now. He did a really cruel thing to you and me, and I understand if you're interested in what happens to him, but I'd rather just forget that he ever existed in our lives. There are more important things for me to worry about than his fate. I don't want to dwell on what happened… I just want to live with what's happening right now."

Her mouth gaped open just slightly, her eyes going unfocused for just a moment as she looked up at him.

He smiled, turning another corner and keeping up his steady pace.

"That… makes sense." She said finally, sounding rather dumb.

"Good then,"

"No," She closed her eyes and shook her head, "What I meant was… I feel the same way. I don't want to focus on what was bad now that there's a chance for us to actually be happy."

He nodded, his heart swelling just a bit. "Exactly my point."

Rose cracked the first full, genuine smile of the night.

They stopped at the bottom step of the spiral staircase that led to the Ravenclaw common room, Scorpius looking at Rose in a way he couldn't even explain himself… like he was grateful at the same time he was expectant… it didn't make sense even to him.

"Go to bed," Rose mock-commanded, an amused smile still playing at her lips, "We have lessons tomorrow."

He grinned. Lessons.

Her amused smile settled into a warmer one, her entire face visibly softening.

Scorpius held his arms open just slightly and beckoned her toward him. She hardly hesitated for a beat before walking into his arms, linking her arms easily around his back at the same time his looped around her upper arms and shoulder blades.

This body-to-body contact… he didn't realize how much he'd been craving it until the want had been fulfilled. He could feel nothing but happiness in physical and emotional responses internal and external.

She squeezed him tightly for a second before, for once, being the one to pull away from him. "Go to bed," She said again, a bit more seriously this time.

He rolled his eyes and half-smiled, picking his trunk back up and turning to walk up the spiral staircase. At the same time he wanted to be with her even more, he was content with what affection he could receive from her.

He didn't hesitate, once in his dorm (he was quite surprised that, for the first time, the Common Room was completely empty when he'd walked through it), to unpack everything and put it in the exact order it'd been before he left. The three other Sixth Years in the room all happened to sleep like corpses, so they didn't even stir at his arrival or noisemaking, much less awake. As a result, he didn't mind them as he stacked the textbooks he'd need in his messenger bag before laying the heavy thing beside his bed. He even went as far as to prepare his uniform for the next day. He'd decided back home that, even though he didn't _like _the scar, he wouldn't bother wearing the turtlenecks anymore. Everyone logical knew already, and the ones who didn't needn't be concerned.

There was too much energy coursing through him for him to fall asleep, even though a good night's sleep was well in order. He changed into some of his most comfortable pajamas to try and coax out the tiredness that should've been there, though it actually didn't help anything at all. Choosing to force himself into unconsciousness, he flicked off the lamp beside his bed, laid down in a position to where he was propped up on one elbow, and pulled out one of his recreational reading texts, using the end of his wand for light.

He didn't know exactly when his eyelids began drooping, but by the tenth paragraph into the chapter, he was completely dead asleep.

* * *

**A/N: **Is it bad that the entire time Scorpius was writing the first note to Rose, all I could think of was the song "Going Back to Hogwarts" from A Very Potter Musical? hahahahaha

It amused me greatly to write their little letter conversation… because you can _so _tell that Scorpius is a guy. It's like texting a guy. Girls write a novel, and guys respond with one little sentence. True story. :D

Only one chapter and an Epilogue to go… aren't you excited? 'Cause I am :D

K. Till next time. Remember to _**Review **_and _**Story Alert**_!

_KitKat Pyrophobia_


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: **I do not own. In any way, shape, or form.

**A/N:** Rose is very confrontational this chapter… haha

Thus, I bring you the longest chapter evarrrrr! (in this story XD)

Do enjoy :D

* * *

"_It is easier to find men who will volunteer to die, than to find those who are willing to endure pain with patience._"

Julius Caesar

* * *

It was quite disheartening, the reaction he got from people on his first few days back. Nervous in spite of himself on Monday morning, he'd skipped breakfast, consequently avoiding other students and teachers until completely mandatory. By the third hour of the day, he seriously regretted it.

People who had usually no problem with sitting next to him had "coincidentally" ended up more than a few seats away. The select few who'd made casual attempts at conversation over the years were suddenly silent and avoided his gaze before and after lessons. Even the one Slytherin who had been trying to sneak answers from his paper since First Year kept her eyes firmly on her own paper when he got back.

It would have been a lie for Scorpius to tell anyone that the behavior didn't bother him at first… but at the same time, an exaggeration for him to say that it upset him. He didn't like the fact that everyone was playing into Lorcan's sob story, sure, but he was mostly indifferent to the fact; he didn't socialize much before he left, and now he was perchance even happier because he was in school, regardless of what people thought. Honestly, he'd figured that people would get over the fact soon enough after they realized he was the same person, lycanthropy or no lycanthropy. And the people who didn't realize it… that was their problem, not his.

Of course, there wasn't much to complain about when he was actually in class (even though his learning at home had resulted in him being much further in subjects than the rest of the students in class) with Rose just a seat away in a good few of them. The girl was his lifeline.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was surprisingly uneventful the first day back, considering that Professor Smith was so entirely anti-werewolf. Though, the man did have a certain look on his face as if he smelled something incredibly foul under his nose. It might have been a threat from the Headmistress, the confrontational glare that was ever-present on Rose's face, or any combination of the two, but he'd stayed in check, as did the student body because, really, their reactions could have been much worse.

So, his biggest problem by his third lesson on his second Monday back was that exams were only two weeks away.

* * *

Rose was completely exhausted, and it reminded her extraordinarily of how she felt by the end of the last lesson of Scorpius's first day back. After the entire day of sending warning glares every which-way at people who had been gawking at her and Scorpius, her eyes had been tired, her cheeks achy from frowning, her mental state sluggish from being so constantly vigilant. Although any other circumstances would have proven to have just the opposite effect, she was rather glad that Scorpius hadn't shared her last lesson on that first day; instead, black and yellow had rivaled the maroon and gold in the classroom.

The girl's brain had been thoroughly worn out by the Arithmancy that'd just been crammed into it, but, as was true for the entire day, she was prepared for a defensive argument over her the new arrival in the castle.

"Now, are there any questions?" Professor Vector had asked, her voice sharp but slightly weary with age.

"I have a question," A voice had said from behind Rose. It sounded definitely male, but she had been just too lazy to look back and identify the face.

Professor Vector nodded, allowing him to continue.

"Er, it's not about Arithmancy,"

"Go ahead anyway."

"Is Scorpius Malfoy really a werewolf?" The person had asked eagerly.

Rose's hand shot up just after the familiar name was spoken, her chin still rested on her other arm laid across her desk.

The Professor had worn a look on her face that read as "I'm too old for this…" and made a gesture toward Rose that read as consent.

"Is it really any of your business if he is or isn't?" She'd mumbled in a way that sounded surprisingly solid.

"I suppose it's _your_ business, isn't it, Weasley?" The boy cheeked.

Rose sighed in a way that'd made her sound very uncharacteristically haughty. "I would assume so, since Scorpius is my best friend."

"And of course it has nothing to do with the fact that he's gotten all interesting after this summer."

"You're right. It has absolutely nothing to do with what did or _didn't_ happen over the summer." Her temper flared up. It took great self-control to keep her head on her desk instead of turning back with fire in her eyes for the boy.

There had been a slight pause. "I was just wondering if the rumors were true, Professor,"

"Why don't you try asking Mister Malfoy himself?" Rose had admired the way the Professor handled the situation, waving it off as nothing. It was something she still wasn't capable of, even though he'd been back an entire week.

She lounged slothfully on one of the sofas in the common room, her feet carelessly lulling on the armrest opposite of the one she used as a pillow, her forearms thrown across her eyes in an attempt to shield out the light. She let out a quiet groan.

"So why isn't Lorcan here anymore?" Ever-direct, Lily Potter nearly knocked the wind out of her cousin's lungs by sitting down right across her stomach.

"Merlin, Lily!" Rose coughed, struggling to sit up.

The younger girl looked remarkably innocent, almost angelic, as she slid backwards, her legs now draped over Rose's midriff.

"Why do you ask?" Rose asked, propping herself up on her elbows.

"Because he somehow ended up gone as soon as Scorpius came back? I know there's some sort of connection there."

"I honestly don't know what happened to Lorcan." Rose never cared to find out his exact punishment after the meeting a week prior.

Lily looked skeptical.

"Give me some Veritaserum," Rose held out her hand.

"I believe you," She sighed. "So you don't have any idea whatsoever what happened?"

"Well," Rose dropped the volume of her voice just a bit, cognizant of other Gryffindors lazing around the common room at the same time, "All I know is that Dad said something about blackmail being punishable by law… and right before we left, they were talking about the possibility of Azkaban."

Lily's jaw dropped, her eyes doubling in size. "Are you _serious_?"

"Entirely," Rose nodded soberly.

"And you're not going to find out if he went or not?" The Potter asked incredulously.

"I really don't care. He was an awful person, and he probably deserves worse than whatever punishment he's getting; but I don't want to dwell on it. I've moved on, and so has Scorpius."

Lily grew a devious smile.

Rose's face dropped. "What?"

The smile only got larger.

"_What_?"

"So, with no Lorcan in the picture… you and Scorpius are free to do whatever you want to, huh?"

Rose narrowed her eyes, trying to will her cheeks not to heat up. "What do you mean by that?"

Lily ignored her question completely. "I swear, you two's kids are going to be so pale they're clear." She noted rather wistfully.

"Scorpius can't have kids," Rose responded dejectedly.

"Why not?" Lily's brow furrowed, her arms crossing.

"He's a werewolf." Rose mouthed the last word.

"And?"

"He thinks his children will inherit it."

"Teddy Lupin." She replied simply.

"I know, I told him about Ted. He thinks he's going to be the odd one out, though." She shrugged. "And either way, we wouldn't have kids."

"Why not?"

"We're not like that, Lily, I told you." Now, Rose couldn't help the full-blown blush that crept up her neck into her cheeks.

The other girl raised her eyebrow disbelievingly, the smile growing again. "Right."

"We're _not_,"

"Okay, Rosie, whatever you want to think." Lily responded airily. "You can't say you _don't _like him."

"Of course I like him; he's my best friend." She rolled her eyes, trying desperately to play it off.

"Rose you know what I mean."

"Does it matter, Lily, really? Nothing could ever really happen between us anyway…" Rose's stomach knotted unhappily.

"Why not?" Lily, at that point, was just egging Rose on.

"Doesn't that concept have to be mutual between two people for it to work?" She grumbled.

"_Wow_ you're blind, Rose Weasley."

Her brows knitted together, offended. "What do you mean?"

"You should _see _the way he looks at you, Rosie. Imagine how your dad looks at your mom, except more… adoring."

"Shut up, Lily." She flushed even darker.

Her cousin only smiled knowingly.

"Whatever." She sighed, rolling her eyes. "I have to go study… exams are in two weeks. I'll see you later." Rose pulled her legs from under the girl, successfully ambling to her feet.

"Bye, Rosie." The younger girl said cheerfully from her spot still on the couch.

Rose didn't even see her surroundings as she made her way up the stairs to her dormitory; her mind was spinning too quickly. As much as she loved Scorpius, and _wanted _what Lily said to be true, she knew her cousin was a romantic at heart. And the Fourth Year also wanted Rose and Scorpius to "happen" since day one. Whatever Lily was saying about how Scorpius felt, well, frankly Rose didn't believe it…

… as much as she really, _really _wanted to.

* * *

If there was one thing Scorpius hated most about being back at school, it was the caustic scowl Rose constantly shot to various people in class. He hated that she would feel the need to give the look at all, but abhorred the fact that she rarely flaunted her thousand-_lumos _smile anymore. He loved her smile, and could remember the odd feeling of warmth it gave him to see it even before they were friends at all. Now, she hardly showed it unless there was no one else around them.

And if he were to choose another complaint about being in school, it would be that she was so confrontational now. The same girl who'd had a nearly spotless record for the entirety of her six years, the Prefect who always had something nice to say, now had had at least three detentions in the week prior, plus another one for disrupting class with fighting in Potions.

Rose was still red in the face from anger as she scratched her quill against her paper, taking notes from the blackboard about what would be on the Exam (it was in exactly a week, Potions being the last exam they took on that Friday).

Scorpius, having written much more quickly than her, not taking much care to copy down the information word-for-word in his pre-full moon illness, flipped to the back of his notebook and unenergetically scrawled, "_Your detention is today, right?_" He pushed the book toward her and laid his head back down on his crossed arms as soon as she set her quill down.

"_Yes_. _Right after class_." She wrote back, her handwriting as loopy as ever.

"_Why do you fight so much now?_" He wanted to scribe so much more… he wanted to detail how much it hurt him to see that she hardly smiled anymore, how he wished he could make it better, how she shouldn't worry because no one mattered to him but her… but he couldn't find the words to properly express what he meant by everything—even though it actually could have been summed up in three simple words…

"_I have a bit of a temper when people start to talk about you_." She bit her lip as she wrote this.

"_That's an understatement._" He pushed the book to her, let her read it and offer a small smile, and placed it back in front of himself. "_I don't think you should worry about it much. Just focus on the exams, and try not to get into much trouble… we already have enough to worry about just before exam week._"

"_The moon is on Sunday, right?_"

He nodded indifferently.

"_How are you going to get your exams done? Because we have Charms and Muggle Studies on Monday."_

"_I'll take them with everyone else. I don't see why I wouldn't be able to._" This was a complete lie on Scorpius's part, since he remembered quite vividly how miserable the illness and fatigue felt after the full moon… it was exponentially worse than how he felt then, like his head was being compressed and every light was far too bright.

"_Are you sure that's a good idea?_"

"_No_."

She smiled, finally, a full, genuine smile that lit up her entire face and made Scorpius feel like there was an internal switch that had just been flipped on.

"_Just promise that you won't stress yourself out too much_."

"_I will if you promise to stop fighting._" He countered. She met his eyes, which had a very serious look in them, and suddenly looked abashed.

"_Deal_."

He smiled at her, the affection for her growing steadily in his chest. In the nearly three weeks he'd been back at school, it'd been a constant internal struggle to will himself to not act on anything he was feeling. It was another war entirely to try and stop himself from submitting and admitting to the incessant feeling of butterflies in his stomach and the fact that his heart beat just a bit more wildly every time she sat down next to him in class or at dinner.

Because honestly, she was just as beautiful when she was angry (with magic and energy crackling all around her, shining in her eyes) as when she was smiling.

It was all so irrational.

"—and remember, the exam is _next Friday_, so study hard!" Professor Slughorn punctuated his words with a typical hearty laugh.

The bell chimed loudly, signaling the end of class for the day. Scorpius saw most of the class get up immediately and dash out and the rest of the students dawdling around with their books and bags and friends. He remained sitting, but sluggishly began to put all of his texts and notebooks in his bag as well.

"I really don't need a detention when exams are so close… that's so much time wasting away when I could be studying." Rose rubbed her temples from beside him, quiet hysteria sounding in her mumble.

"Don't fight and you won't get in trouble," He reasoned, shrugging his shoulders noncommittally.

"Do you think I could talk my way out of this one?" She asked slightly deviously, perking up the slightest bit.

He looked at her skeptically, one eyebrow creeping up to his hairline.

Her shoulders slumped. "The next time I start to fight, Silence me."

He smiled softly.

"Promise." She commanded, meeting eyes with him.

"Fine," He rolled his eyes in an attempt to keep things casual when his he felt his chest tightening so familiarly. "I promise."

She brightened again, a smile coloring her face. "Good,"

Scorpius smiled again, too, and closed the flap on his bag. By now, everyone was out of class except for him and Rose, Slughorn having made a quick trip to his office for some paper or another.

"Well," He rested his hands on the edge of the desk, readying himself to push away and stand up, "Have fun,"

She glared at him.

Scorpius grinned in spite of the circumstances. Mindlessly, spontaneously, he removed one hand from the table and used it to lightly brush his hand across her cheek as he moved forward and touched his lips to hers.

There was a tumbling feeling in his stomach that caused every inch of his skin to be covered in goosebumps for a second. After that second's reaction faded to some extent, he smoothly pulled away and stood up, looping his bag over his shoulder.

"See you later," He said, a small smile still fighting its way onto his face.

He hardly even noticed the wide-eyed, distant expression on her face as he walked casually (if a little listlessly) as ever out of the room as if nothing spectacular had happened at all.

It took him until he was out of the dungeons, past the Great Hall, about three minutes away from the Ravenclaw common room for him to stop dead in his tracks and allow reality to set in…

_What the _bloody hell _just happened?_

_

* * *

_

"Miss Weasley? Miss Weasley? _Rose_!"

Rose was pulled out of her state of shock by the sound of Slughorn's concerned voice. "Sorry, Professor," She said, her voice hollow.

"Are you all right?"

She waited a few seconds to answer this as she fully recalled everything that'd happened in such a short time… In a way that probably alarmed Slughorn more than anything, a wide smile broke across her face. "I'm all right, Professor."

He blinked a few times.

Rose's heart felt literally like it was skipping every off-beat; she had the sudden urge to stand up and jump around, but thankfully suppressed it; she had to bite her lip to curb the smile that she couldn't will away without added effort.

"As your punishment, I'm going to ask you to grade these essays for me. I trust you to grade them accordingly, but if they have the list of ingredients correct, they should have at least an 'Acceptable'." His words sounded strange, as if he spoke through water. "Understand?"

She nodded, afraid that the manic smile would return if she opened her mouth.

"Good. _Accio_," The stack of parchment flew into his hands, and he immediately handed them over to Rose. "I'll be in my office if you need anything."

Rose nodded again, moving to pull out a quill and inkwell. It was then that she noticed her hands were shaking. She grinned.

Mindlessly, she Charmed the ink to red instead of black, and began reading over the essays… but she couldn't honestly say that she was paying attention to anything she was reading. Her mind was… elsewhere; she was a few minutes in the past, feeling Scorpius's lips on hers again… feeling his hand barely grazing her cheek… feeling her body freeze up in surprise, but melt into the simple, natural gesture… feeling him pull away and wishing he wouldn't have… realizing that he hadn't even comprehended what he'd done…

She bit her lip a bit harder to tame the irrepressible smile on her face. There were no strings attached in that moment, no thoughts or reflections on where the action left them… there was only borderline giddiness as she hastily made sure every paper had the list of ingredients correct and awarded the essays each with an "Outstanding".

* * *

Scorpius wanted nothing more than to just stay in bed all day as he awoke on Saturday morning. His entire body felt as if it weighed a few tons, his head pounding like he'd fallen straight backwards and the entire force of the movement was absorbed in the back of his head, his throat burning though he didn't speak or swallow or disturb it in any way.

He knew he had no prior engagements, no promises of places he'd be or people he would meet. There was nothing in particular that he'd _wanted _to do that was any different from any other Saturday, except for study for his exams. There was no reason, he realized retrospectively, for him to get out of bed at all that day…

Sure, there was always Rose and his unavoidable, restless need to be around her, but Scorpius was still rather nervous about how she would react to seeing him after what he'd done… there was no worry that she would be disgusted with it or reject it entirely, because it was already established that she had the same feelings for him, but he absolutely dreaded seeing the positive reaction to it. He honestly didn't know what had come over him when he'd kissed her in the first place, but he didn't plan to lose control in that manner again. And, not to be a narcissist, as he did consider the fact that she might have _not _enjoyed it (and he was in a fifty-fifty limbo where he half hoped she did and half hoped she didn't), but he didn't want to disappoint her in never giving her any more. As much as he craved the feel of her lips, he vowed not to submit to selfishness; this was for Rose's sake. Scorpius didn't want to hurt her any more than he already had over the course of the year.

Having woken up naturally at only around six, Scorpius allowed himself an extra four hours of restful, dreamless sleep before he willed himself awake again, knowing that school was much more important any subjective little problem he was having, and though he knew the material very, _very _well, he had to study. That was his priority.

His body felt somehow infinitely heavier than it did when he woke up as he stood and gathered his books without energy. Looping the bag over his shoulder, the large amount of books doing nothing beneficial at all for his weighty body, he dragged his feet all the way to the library, attracting quite a few odd looks because of one: what he was, and how people still weren't fully comfortable with the fact, and two: the way his eyes were squinting against the light, his head facing down, his posture slumped, and his movements sluggish when he usually appeared quite confident and healthy, almost haughtily so. It was a contrast, to say the least.

The library crept towards him painfully slowly, each step echoing all up and down his figure, aching from head to toe. After much too long a time, he pushed his way through the library doors, slinking to the back corner where a few desks were lined up with chairs corresponding with them. He nearly collapsed into the nearest one, his vision unfocused. He haphazardly dumped the entire contents of his bag on the desk, almost blindly groping for his Charms textbook and notes. He closed his eyes for just a moment against the streaming sunlight that was causing even more of a splitting headache, rubbing his temples.

"Judging by the fact that this is your handwriting instead of mine, I think this is your copy of these dates." A slightly hushed but still pleasant voice said from behind him.

He groaned slightly, but immediately regretted it as it felt like a flame slid down his throat.

"Are you okay?" Rose asked concernedly, kneeling down beside his chair.

Scorpius shook his head miserably.

"You need to go to the Hospital Wing," She said with finality.

"What is that going to help?" He asked, his voice incredibly hoarse.

"Scorpius, she can give you _something _to help,"

"I need to study," He countered.

"I'll take your books for you. You need to rest, really."

"Rose…" He didn't have the strength to fight anymore.

"Come on… please?"

The blond groaned again, pushing away from the desk and moving to stand up. He felt incredibly off-balance suddenly and stumbled, having to lean on Rose for support.

"Al, can you get the books?" Rose addressed the boy who'd been standing beside her the whole time, unseen by Scorpius, whose eyes had been closed.

Scorpius didn't hear or see the boy's reply, as Rose already began steering him out of the library to the infirmary. The entire trip he was in a haze, somewhere bouncing between elation and pure misery.

"Isn't it a bit early to be coming here, Mr. Malfoy?" Madame Pomfrey asked, sticking her head out of her office door to investigate the new additions to her infirmary.

"Al, can you take him to the last bed, just over there?" Rose whispered, pointing to the back corner.

The shorter, unruly-headed boy nodded, heaving Scorpius's limp arm over his shoulder, supporting the blond's weight (though it was probably twice that of the Potter's) as Rose ducked from under him.

She walked swiftly to the older woman's office and stood worriedly in the doorway, saying, "Madame Pomfrey, I've never seen him this bad before the full moon. Is there anything at all you can do to help?"

Madame Pomfrey immediately stood, brushing past rose to whisk through the hospital wing as always. "I'm no expert on werewolves, but I believe this illness may be caused by stress,"

Rose nodded, following the Healer through the room.

"I also think it will benefit him greatly to do nothing but rest through the day, if only for a few hours at a time."

"And tonight?"

"_Accio_," The woman delicately flicked her wand and a few different bottles hovered straight to her, where she used an elementary "_Wingardium Leviosa_" to keep them Levitated beside her. "I think it's going to take no less than the Draught of Living Death to keep him asleep through the transformation tonight," Her wrinkled brow furrowed as she poured the contents of one cylindrical bottle into a stout little flask.

Rose grimaced, not liking the seriousness in her tone. She gingerly sat in one of the two chairs beside the bed, Albus in the other. Her knees pulled to her chest and her thumb nail instantly went between her teeth.

"Well, he's asleep now. What do we do?" Al asked, wide-eyed.

Madame Pomfrey seemed to take note of the other Sixth Year for the first time. "If you're going to stay here, then I suppose there's nothing to do until he wakes again. When he does, wait around fifteen minutes or so, and have him drink a bit of this." She set down a small turquoise bottle of crystal-clear liquid on his bedside table.

Rose nodded, worry still swelling in her stomach.

The woman went back to her office.

Al looked awkwardly from a very tense Rose to Scorpius, who was sleeping rather unsoundly, his facial expressions too pained to show evidence of anything akin to a peaceful rest.

Rose felt rather bad, on top of everything else, that she'd promised Al to help him study for his finals, but they ended up in the hospital wing with Scorpius instead. Though reluctant to peel her eyes from the unconscious blond, she bent to pick up both her notes and Scorpius's, knowing that his were usually much more thorough than hers would ever really dream of being. And even if she felt worry beyond belief for the Malfoy, she knew that two of the most important things in her life were school and family; she promised Al that they would study.

"Are you sure you want to stay here?" She asked, flipping to a relatively random page in Scorpius's notebook.

"I'm worried about him too, you know," Al pushed his square glasses up the bridge of his nose, looking rather offended.

This pleasantly surprised Rose.

"He's basically family anyway, right?"

She smiled warmly at her cousin, pure emotion closing up her throat for just a moment.

Al smiled innocently back.

"Okay Albus Severus, tell me the twelve uses for dragon's blood."

* * *

Scorpius was violently shaking from head to toe when he woke up, and he didn't know why. He was confused about here he was and how he got there, as he honestly didn't remember waking up that morning at all. He sat up, even though his body protested and his head pounded.

"He's up, Rosie," Al Potter looked at Scorpius curiously.

Rose looked up from _his _notebook, her face lighting up. "Scorpius," she said, "How are you feeling?"

He decided that there were really no words to describe just how bad he felt. So, instead, he opted to just close his eyes and shake his head in a dismissive manner. "What time is it" He asked, his voice rough.

"About eight forty-five," Al responded.

Scorpius nodded a thanks, becoming concerned that the boy was still there that late in the evening.

"The sun doesn't set for another hour or so," Rose read his face more easily that she could read his handwriting.

He nodded again; leaning over, he snatched his notes out of her hands. He flipped to the page containing the last week's lesson of the designated notebook he recognized as Charms, attempting to re-memorize the incantations.

"Hey!" Rose objected, "I was using that,"

"It's my notebook," He reasoned childishly.

"Here, how about I quiz you two so we can _all _use it?"

Narrowing his eyes, Scorpius handed the book back over, tilting his head to rest against the wall. He heard Rose begin to speak, but could no longer see her clearly. His vision swan, his hearing muffled and distorted. He could feel that he hadn't stopped shaking, and wondered why for a moment before he finally realized… memories rushed uncomfortably back into his mind…

Nightmares. Horrible; terrifying; enough to make his eyes wild and his whole body tremble. He could only remember flashes of each individual one, dark settings and eerie sounds and typical fears incarnate, but that was really quite enough. He'd never had so many consecutive, realistic terrors erupt from his own subconscious, and the fact that they were created by him just made it all the more horrifying.

His breath choked in his throat, his chest now heaving.

"Scorpius?" Rose's firm voice that she always got in situations like that one mingled with his thoughts.

"Mr. Malfoy, sunset is in only fifteen minutes!" A shrill voice, but a concerned one. Madame Pomfrey.

"Nightmares… nightmares…" He panted out; the one word was all he could process above his thoughts.

"I'll go ahead and go," Another familiar voice… Albus Potter?

(_A woman's blood-curdling scream broke through the roaring silence in his ears_.)

"Bye Al, we can study again tomorrow," Rose's voice was incredibly strained. She picked up something from the bedside table. Scorpius could feel his heartbeat thundering in his chest.

"Scorpius, Madame Pomfrey wants you to drink this. She said it might help," She held the bottle unsurely.

"What is it?" His voice sounded panicked and breathy.

"It's a sleeping potion,"

(_He was running… he didn't know where he was going, and he didn't _want _to think of what he was running from… but he needed to go… and go faster… hurry… get away… he was going much too slow…_)

"I need… I need…" What did he need?

"We need to go back into the room for tonight," Her voice was level, almost emotionless.

He felt his motor skills click, and he was suddenly at the door, trying to think of the spell to open it. Why… why couldn't he remember?

(_He was kneeling over a body that faced away from him. He reached out to try to help the still-lying female's figure, but stopped immediately, withholding a scream behind his lips. Dripping down his charred-black hand was thick, crimson liquid he could only identify as blood… but whose blood? Whose blood was on his hands?_)

"_Alohomora_," Rose said from beside him.

Scorpius nearly flew through the door into the furthest corner, his mind still racing with terror.

Rose fell to her knees in front of him, her cool composure counteracting his hysteria. "Here. Drink,"

He grappled for the bottle, drinking every drop in one swift swig.

"Scorpius," The boy noticed for the first time that her hands were tightly gripping his shoulders as she faced him head-on with a certain seriousness in her eyes that was unparalleled by even the toughest of authority figures.

He suddenly felt incredibly small, needy, dependent, like an infant or small child. All of the feelings of being unsafe were dampened as he saw the burning rationality in her eyes.

Scorpius realized that he'd been clutching the hem of her white T-shirt the entire time with knuckles in the same shade. Fingers aching from effort, he let go of the fabric. He never took his eyes away from hers. Almost desperately, he straightened from his awkward, slumped position on the ground and pulled her against him, arms tightly around her waist.

She returned the embrace much more calmly, her hands lightly fisted above the collar of his gray shirt.

The terror was slowly subsiding, but so was the entire world around him. The last complete though he had concerned the fact that the potion was indeed kicking in.

* * *

Rose woke up the next morning without remembering when she fell asleep. Her body told her that she hadn't gotten much sleep at all, however, and every muscle felt tight. The light outside the high windows was dim, but she could tell that the sun had risen already by the bright glow across every bed in the room. She sat up from the one she was mysteriously placed in, the one just beside Scorpius's, and crossed the few steps necessary to the boy's bed.

He was lying, facing her bed, with his eyes open but heavily lidded. His body was curled up under a single sheet, his fists up near his face.

"Good morning," She said quietly, not sure for once how to read him.

"Good morning," He replied, his voice still slightly rough.

She kneeled down beside the bed, her arms folded on the mattress.

"What time is it?"

Looking toward the clock on his bedside table, she read, "Eight forty,"

He closed his eyes momentarily, lashes brushing his cheekbones, before moving ungracefully to sit up.

"Are you sure you want to go to class today?" Rose asked worriedly.

"What other time could I take my exams?" He countered halfheartedly, sliding off the side of the bed and reaching for his change of clothes.

She bit her lip. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," He sighed, languidly shrugging into a uniform shirt, not even bothering to button the top three buttons or tie the navy and bronze tie around his neck.

"I'm sorry," She said truthfully, picking up a uniform that had been prepared for her as well (_Thank you, Madame Pomfrey_.) and moving behind his modesty screen to change.

"It's not your fault,"

"How was the potion?" The question had been burning in her mind since she woke.

No reply.

"Scorpius?"

The silence on the other side of the opaque screen was enough to make her poke her head from behind it, making sure not to show any of the skin now exposed from her lack-of shirt.

The blond stood stock-still from where he had obviously just been zipping up his trousers, his hands still angled over the zipper. He began trembling slightly again, alarming Rose more than before.

"Are you all right?"

"I dreamed that I was being bitten again. It was like re-living this summer." He said bluntly.

Her stomach dropped horribly. Wordlessly, she threw on her shirt and skirt and sped from behind the partition.

In the time that she'd been dressing, he'd sat down on the edge of the bed.

"I'm so sorry," She said, sincerity exuding from her very bones.

"It's not your fault," He repeated, reaching around her stooped figure for his shoes.

Rose swallowed, trying her best to prevent tears from falling. She grabbed her shoes as well, slipping them on easily, using the down-time to regain her composure. She felt so horrible… "Yesterday you said something about nightmares. You didn't have any more of those?"

He chucked dryly. "The memory of what happened was much worse than anything I can remember dreaming about yesterday."

Her throat constricted; she busied herself with running her fingers through her now-tangled hair to prevent herself once more from crying.

"Class starts in less than five minutes," Scorpius said, his voice rather hollow.

Rose nodded, and stood up just after he did, walking in a slight sleepy daze to the familiar Charms classroom.

"I feel like I'm about to fall asleep," She grumbled as they took their seats next to each other.

He chuckled again, this time with more humor.

The redhead pulled out her notebook after one last glance at the pallor-stricken face of her peer and began to re-read everything she'd written from the entire year, the words echoing and refreshing in her mind. They were the first ones in class, and most everyone else strolled in just before the bell rang at nine, but neither of the pair noticed, as they were engrossed in the texts in front of their face, now wide awake from the stress of exams.

Their other motives disappeared completely in that moment, their main focus switching to the test in front of them.

* * *

Exam week passed in what was really just a huge, stressed, tired blur. There wasn't much time for talking at all when it came to the two most serious students at Hogwarts studying for exams… as soon as the quick little discussions of question number twelve or Example C following the actual test were concluded, they would find some quiet little cranny of the castle and sit down, diligently reading the notes for whatever test they would take next. Needless to say, by Friday afternoon ("I think I might have mixed up the counterclockwise stir in that last bit… mine started smoking up a bit later than everyone else's." Rose said, biting her lip worriedly. Scorpius tried to remember what her potion had looked like, but could hardly focus on her problems when he just _knew _he mixed up the uses for Moondew, Moonseed, and Moonstone in the written portion of the examination…) it was no surprise at all that there weren't any significant advances in their relationship like the slip-up Scorpius had made a week back…

But the two were very glad that exams were over at the same time they felt great anxiety about getting their test scores back ("That one question could be the difference between an 'Outstanding' and an 'Exceeds Expectations', you know…" Scorpius said forlornly.)… even though both of them knew fully well that they were going to get a high grade.

* * *

"Rose, the results aren't going to come until sometime next week," Scorpius said wearily to the antsy redhead. Still, despite the senselessness of it, he'd walked alongside Rose all the way to every classroom she regularly attended, only to watch the bitter disappointment unfold on her face as each teacher told her that the tests weren't scored yet, and that results would be arriving by mail in the next week.

"We took Charms and Muggle Studies last Monday, and those aren't finished yet? This is ridiculous!" The girl was more anxious than usual, her hair seeming to frizz more and more every second.

"Just be patient," He said rationally, following her to what he assumed was the Owlery by the route they were taking.

"But it's already been—"

"It's only _Saturday_, Rose." He cut her off exasperatedly.

Her lower lip stuck out in a pout.

He grinned at her reaction… he couldn't imagine how badly she had to have been stressed the year before for O.W.L.s… and he didn't _want _to imagine how bad she would be for N.E.W.T.s… he actually shuddered at the thought.

She walked through the archway to the Owlery first, and immediately crossed to where her family's owl, a very handsome chestnut color, was perched, waiting for her.

Scorpius crossed his arms casually and watched her pull out a quill and some parchment interestedly, wondering aloud what in the world she had to send her family.

"I have to tell them that scores aren't back yet, of course,"

He laughed out loud. "Do they really need a minute-by-minute update, Rose?"

"Well, I was just going to tell them—"

"Rose. They went to school too, they know that exam results don't come the day after the last final," He reasoned.

"Scorpius, just let me send the letter," She furrowed her brow, trying to reach past him for the owl who he was blocking.

He grinned, satisfied with the fact that he was annoying her so badly. The look of almost desperation for something so frivolous was both funny and cute at once.

She extended her arm past him; he caught her wrist easily in his hand.

"Scorpius," She whined.

He was still smiling in spite of himself, refusing to let go of her wrist. He lowered it in between them, the world suddenly feeling as if it was spinning just a little more slowly.

The look of subdued forlornness on her face smoothed out gradually into one of amused curiosity. Her eyes shone as he stared into them, quite sure that nothing would ever make him look away.

However, this theory was completely disproved as he saw her mouth move from the corner of his eye. Looking down, he saw her biting it gently, as if she was nervous, or even teasing.

As Scorpius was so entranced by the sight of her lips, he didn't notice when the skin all above them flushed pink… abrupt memories of how soft they felt were upon him, taking him back to the Potions classroom on that certain afternoon…

They hadn't mentioned anything about the kiss, and Scorpius was getting the distinct impression from Rose that she thought she imagined it. But, in that moment, the expression "actions speak louder than words" came to mind, and the sight of her lips was almost too much to resist…

The sound of a loud squawk from the Weasley owl brought him back to his senses. He blinked a few times, berating himself for losing control once again. However, he still tried to keep the suddenly-thick atmosphere light by releasing her wrist and saying, "Send the letter," with an accompanying smile and eye-roll.

She mock glared, brushing past him to attach the thin scroll to the owl's leg.

Scorpius shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his favorite jeans, feeling somehow helpless against his impulses. He decided not to fret over it, though, as there was too much positive energy around him and Rose to add any negativity to the frame. He half-smiled, watching Rose as she turned around and began to nearly prance out of the Owlery.

* * *

The library was much less crowded than it had been during exams. Now that the castle as a whole was less stressed (O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s were finished as well, much to James and Fred's relief) about tests, there was no reason for anyone to really even be in the library at all… not that that was stopping Rose and Scorpius from visiting the dusty old room.

Rose had made the excuse that she still needed to return a few books she'd borrowed Merlin-knows-when, but Scorpius knew her a bit too well to believe that… he knew that she just loved everything about the place, including the musty smell of old parchment that infiltrated your nostrils from a good two corridors away.

"Hey, do you remember how there was Amortentia in Potions on the first day of class?" Scorpius asked.

"Yeah, why?" Rose glanced up at him.

A hushed, unrecognizable female voice cut into his focus for just a second. "You're right, I always _did _think the Potters and Weasleys were a bit odd—"

"What'd you smell?" Scorpius was just trying to prove his point and pay attention to a subject that _didn't _make his blood boil.

She grimaced. "I don't remember from that long ago…" Pausing, she put a book back on the shelf, "Let's see… something like… the Burrow at Christmas, the train compartment or something along those lines from earlier this year, and the library, I think."

He smirked smugly.

A different voice this time, still female, still generic. "Rose Weasley and the three Potters always seemed closer to me…"

Rose narrowed her eyes as they weaved through the aisles of bookshelves, replacing the numerous tomes she'd taken out some months earlier. "What are you smirking about?"

"I knew you were going to mention the library,"

"Does that make you feel accomplished, Mister Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy?" One eyebrow cocked upward, one hand still on the dragonhide spine of the book now half-on the shelf.

The smirk only grew. "Maybe just a little bi—" He stopped in the middle of the word, his ear training to some nondescript area towards the back of the room.

"—And I saw Albus Potter coming from the hospital wing without her—"

"What is it?" Rose asked, looking up at him curiously. She couldn't hear the hushed voices, since she didn't have enhanced hearing that allowed her to.

"Nothing," He said, trying to avoid any further confrontation.

Rose must have known by then that he didn't like to be asked twice.

Scorpius pulled out another book from the bag he was carrying for her (there had been two full bags—the one Rose had carried had emptied already) and began walking to the spot he knew it had to be returned. Unfortunately enough for him, they were closer to the two gossiping voices.

"—I thought they'd be good together… you know, being two of the best-looking people at Hogwarts."

"I know! She looks much better with him than she did with Lorcan Scamander."

Scorpius froze, and he saw Rose do the same beside him as they both reacted to the name. His heart sank at the same time he felt a spell of pride, cockiness, and testosterone hit him.

"Oh, did you hear what actually happened to him?"

Scorpius glanced over at Rose to see both her jaw and her fists clench. He held his breath in anticipation.

"I heard about what happened with him and Scorpius Malfoy right before Malfoy left,"

"No, not that! Everyone has heard that…"

Rose swiveled on her heel, beginning to step closer to the voice, her entire figure exuding anger.

Reacting immediately, Scorpius reached out and grabbed her wrists from behind, stopping her in the middle of her step.

She didn't step back or move at all, really, other than to balance herself.

"Then what is it?"

Scorpius stepped forward slowly, moving his body closer to hers, seizing a moment that felt somehow different between the dusky shelves.

"Okay, so you know the other day when Harry Potter was hanging around Care of Magical Creatures?"

"Yeah,"

There was a finite amount of space between Rose and Scorpius, his breath causing a slight breeze on her coppery hair from where he stood taller than her… the small space left in the middle of them was occupied completely with heat.

"I heard Professor Scamander talking to Harry Potter, and he actually said that Lorcan is going to Azkaban for six months!"

"What? Why?"

"I don't know. They never said. Professor just kept saying something about Lorcan 'getting what he truly deserves'."

"Wow…"

Rose tensed up in response to what the girl said. Even though it had been mutually decided that they didn't _want _to know what happened to the Scamander who'd made their lives so miserable, actually hearing his consequences was just a bit startling.

"I know! So even though what Malfoy did to Scamander seemed bad, just imagine what Scamander did to Malfoy to get sent to Azkaban…"

Memories welled up in his mind, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Rose leaned back against him just slightly, her back and head brushing on his torso in a way that sent warmth and compassion through his entire body in the form of a shiver.

As comfortable as her body against his was, however, he felt the magnetic need to get out of the library, away from the voices and the gossip, to go somewhere serene and undisturbed and sit alone for hours… with Rose, of course. He just wanted… he wanted to think. He didn't know what there even _was _to think about, but he just really craved mirroring the mental solitude he felt in that moment, where he was being reminded of what could only be classified as some of his worst memories.

So, he stepped backwards, hesitating to let go of the loose hold on only one of Rose's wrists, using the other to guide her with him through the bookcases and back out the door.

The oddest thing was that as soon as he was out of the library, away from the whispering girls and thoughts of Lorcan Scamander, his hand still freely encircling Rose's wrist, the girl wordlessly following him from close behind: he felt completely fine. The brief spell of social anxiety and antisocial tendencies were entirely dissolved into normalcy, almost security and welcoming of the somewhat crowded halls and constant buzz of chatter in the warm, midday summer air.

"Are you okay?" Rose asked cautiously from beside him, removing her arm easily from his hand, only to replace it with her palm against his, hands clasped together.

Scorpius struggled a little bit to keep calm when the contact was quickly making heat rise into his face. He decided to answer her wholly and honestly. "I'm fine now… when I heard those two talking, though, I started to feel something really weird… like loneliness,"

Rose looked at him as if she'd never seen him before.

He began to feel self-conscious under her stare, something incredibly out of character for the cool, collected Malfoy.

"I felt the exact same thing. It was weird."

The edges of his mouth turned upwards.

Looking at him, her face went slightly pink, and she smiled, giving his hand a final squeeze before letting go altogether.

He trained his eyes forward as they walked the winding halls of the school; he was very omniscient of the fact that they were attracting quite a bit of attention from their previous handholding.

"I vote no more Scamander for either of us," He said in mock-finality.

She grinned more fully. "Who needs him?"

They arrived at Gryffindor Tower, and Rose said the password ("Chivalry"). As they crawled through the portrait hole into the common room, Scorpius was sure he'd never felt so willing to spend an entire afternoon amongst the Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Slytherins that made up her family and their company in the small, cramped corner of the foreign common room that almost felt like home.

* * *

Just before dinner, Rose made another trip to the Owlery to inform her parents that, once again, her test results were not back. Regardless of the way Scorpius teased her about it, and her parents replying with subtle hints that they only wanted to know when they _did _get back, the girl made the full trip to the far tower for the third time to send a small notice to her parents.

On the way back towards the Great Hall, she was indolently thinking to herself about anything (Scorpius) and everything (Scorpius). More than once, despite her telling herself to quit being so stereotypically love-struck, her mind drifted to the blond, and for the first time she actually began to think of where she and Scorpius stood.

So, they'd kissed. But that was only once, and neither had mentioned anything about it since it'd happened. Actually, by then, Rose was rather convinced that the whole ordeal was simply a mirage created by her miserable mind just before Potions detention. Kissing Rose Weasley was something Scorpius Malfoy simply didn't _do_.

But, another rational though came to her mind: if he _did _kiss her (and a very prominent bit of her brain was telling her that she couldn't have been that imaginative), it meant that he felt the same way about her… and that sent literal shivers down her spine. She knew fully well everything that came with being with a werewolf… but honestly, the repercussions were the same ones she'd been facing through that entire year, only more prominent. The dirty looks would get dirtier. The questions would only get _more_ interrogative, the disapproval just a bit more disgusted. And she could live with that, as long as she had Scorpius. She didn't need a perfect life with a spotless social record, a cozy little home, and a few kids running around for the summer and winter breaks. The only thing she needed, the only thing she really _wanted _at that point, was to be with Scorpius: to find some outlet for the fierce passion she felt burning inside her every time he was around. She could handle the extra problems.

The question was: would he act on anything? The fact that he hadn't done anything since kissing her was a bit worrying… but, in actuality, he _did_. There were times during exam week when both were diligently studying, but he would sit just a little closer to her with his book… he wouldn't move his leg when their would brush against each other… then of course, there was the first time she went to the Owlery, and the way he stared at her lips sent fire into her face and through her veins. On top of that, the library just the day before had confused and excited her more than anything… his body pressed close to hers with its instant calming effect… her hand snaking into his, and his willing reception… if he didn't feel the same way as she did, then why wouldn't he object or pull away? Why would he initiate this contact in the first place?

Logic told her that he _had _to love her back.

And that made her very happy.

So happy, in fact, that she was almost too distracted to hear the word that started the entire spiral of her life.

"—werewolves have no place at Hogwarts."

Rose stopped, listening to the foreign female's voice (what was with the witches of the world doing things to annoy her recently?) from inside what she hadn't even noticed was McGonagall's office. For whatever reason, the professor's door was open just a crack, so Rose could hear what was happening, but couldn't see much more than McGonagall's standing figure from behind her desk when she crept up to the door.

"Madame, I assure you that all necessary precautions have been taken to guarantee the safety of our students here at Hogw—"

"What 'necessary precautions' can be taken against a monster like that?" The woman's voice was now raised.

Rose felt her jaw clench so tightly that her teeth were near cracking. Breathing deeply to keep her emotions level, but being quite unable to _not _interfere in the situation, Rose rapped her knuckles against the door.

McGonagall, for once, sounded her age. "Yes?"

The redhead stepped into the room, not bothering to shut the door behind her.

"Miss Weasley?" The Headmistress got a somewhat knowing look in her eyes, "What is it?"

"Sorry, Professor, but I couldn't help overhearing a bit of your conversation." Rose looked at the other person, who turned out to be a stout woman with curled brunette hair and dark olive skin wearing much too heavy a traveling cloak for the summer.

McGonagall got a slightly dreading expression on her face.

"Excuse me little girl, is this any of your business?" The woman had a slight Southern accent in her low voice that made Rose vaguely wonder where in the world she was from.

"I'm afraid it is, ma'am, because if I'm correct, then you're talking about one certain student in school," She glanced over at McGonagall, who gave her a nod to answer her unspoken question, "Named Scorpius Malfoy."

"Yeah, the werewolf kid," The woman's face darkened.

Rose's tone was almost sickly polite, but if one listened enough, there was quite an apparent sharp edge to it. "Scorpius Malfoy happens to be my best friend."

"And?"

"And I'm just wondering why you don't think he's fit to be in school with the rest of us students," Her hands were wringing behind her back.

"Honey, I'm not sure if you've heard," The brunette was insultingly sarcastic, "But this boy you're talking about is a werewolf."

"I've heard," Rose countered sweetly. "But this has never stopped him from being a relatively normal student."

"Werewolves are evil, sweetie, it'd be best for you to learn that early."

"To be honest, it's just not a mindset I've ever had. What makes you think that?" Her tone was light and conversational.

"Have you not heard about Fenrir Greyback and the rest of 'em? They're evil and dangerous and they have no place in a _school _with other students!" She directed the last bit towards the Headmistress, who was mostly just watching the ordeal unfold. McGonagall knew, by now, that Rose knew how to handle herself.

"Sorry, but have _you _heard about the new Ministry regulations that certify werewolves as 'Safe' or not?"

"I can't say I have." The woman's eyes were narrowing.

"Well, what happens is a certified Healer at St. Mungo's will watch a new werewolf through their first transformation, and if they seem violent and dangerous even after taking Wolfsbane Potion, they will not certify them. But if they seem calm and still have their conscious mind, they _will _be certified as 'Safe'. And this label allows them to go in public places for extended amounts of time when they transform on the full moon. So, if Scorpius _wasn't _certified as 'Safe' by the Ministry itself, and the team that licensed him included one of the most experienced Healers in that ward and Harry Potter himself, he wouldn't be permitted to be in school at all right now."

The brunette was silent for a few seconds, her eyes widening as Rose briefed her completely on a subject that would have changed her mind completely on the matter had she been a rational person. "But who says this Malfoy won't change?"

"The incredibly specialized man who certified him in the first place," Rose deadpanned. She glanced at McGonagall from the corner of her eye and saw the older woman suppressing a smile.

"And what about Wolfsbane? Who says he won't miss a day of that?"

"He hasn't yet." She shrugged. "And if he does, he's in a very secluded room when he transforms anyway."

"And you know this…?"

"Because he's my best friend,"

"See! That is the sort of thing I _don't _want my kid learning here at this school!" The woman suddenly blew up, throwing a stubby pointer finger in Rose's direction and glancing from the Sixth Year to the Headmistress.

"And what exactly is that, Madame?" McGonagall was now severe-looking.

"See how she was so nonchalant about it? No child should be that cool when they're talking about a monster like that!"

Rose squeezed her fists tightly, her blood starting to bubble. "I can assure you, ma'am, I had that outlook about werewolves before I even started this school." She really didn't want to play the "My parents are War Heroes" card, but she was more than willing to if the woman didn't calm herself.

"Yeah?" The woman put her hand on her hip skeptically.

"Yes, ma'am, my family has corresponded with werewolves in their lives, and they taught me that they're not all the same,"

"And they are?"

"Ronald and Hermione Weasley, and my uncle is Harry Potter." Rose held her head high.

The woman straightened instantly, but soon shifted into the same posture she had before. "I'm sorry, honey, but they've taught you all wrong. You can't have been reading the same newspaper as me and not know that all creatures like Fenrir Greyback are bad."

Rose glanced at McGonagall. The woman seemed angry enough not to care what Rose said next. "I'm sorry, but I find it incredibly ridiculous that you assume all people with the same affliction are the same." Her voice was raising slightly with every word.

"How can you say they aren't? Have _you _seen him change into that monster?"

"Yes, actually, I have, not that it's any of _your _business! And I can say that he's _not _a monster!"

"Well I can't say that I trust your judgment, since yours has obviously been impaired." The woman was now scathing.

"This isn't about me, ma'am! This is about your ludicrous accusations that Scorpius isn't fit to be in school!" She was having much trouble staying in one spot rather than advancing on the woman.

"He's putting all of you students and teachers in danger!"

"He's _not_!" Rose countered, incredibly annoyed with the fact that the woman disregarded everything Rose had just told her.

"You have no say in the matter!"

"And you do?"

"I'm a concerned parent!"

"And I've just laid out every reason you _shouldn't _be!"

"You've done nothing of the sort!"

"Then you must be deaf!" Rose yelled back, but no sound came out. Her brow furrowed in slight panic that she'd gone mute, and she looked at McGonagall reflexively.

The Headmistress's gaze was at the doorway.

Rose knew exactly what she would see if she looked back…

And of course, there was Scorpius, looking rather livid with his wand by his side.

_Well_,Rose thought, _At least he can keep a promise_. With a final scathing look at the brunette woman and an apologetic one at McGonagall, she followed advanced on Scorpius out the door and slammed the door behind her.

The blond didn't even look back at her as he stalked through the corridors, past the Great Hall, where people began to stare at his face so beautifully infuriated.

Rose was just as angry, if not more, having not been able to finish her argument, and still not having her voice back to protest this fact. She knew fully well that the spell would only be countered if he actually used magic on her again, so, whether she wanted to or not, she had to follow him. And she really _didn't _want to follow him… she'd promised him that she wouldn't fight anymore, and she'd broken that promise. This sent a pang of guilt through her, but not one that overtook the feeling of anger deep-set into her heart.

A few minutes that seemed like seconds later, Scorpius stopped abruptly in front of her in some dark, empty hallway that she couldn't have identified if she wanted to. She stopped as well, ready to give him an earful before she remembered that she still didn't have a voice. So she simply glared at him with all of the misplaced anger in the world.

He raised his wand and flicked it once. A strange sort of warm feeling like swallowing butterbeer flowed down her throat.

He looked at her blankly.

"What?" She asked, feeling self-conscious under his intensely vacant gaze.

"You said you wouldn't fight anymore."

"Scorpius, you didn't hear some of the things she was saying about you!" She countered, somewhat desperately trying to plead her case.

"Rose, I don't need you to be my bodyguard!" It was the first time he'd ever shouted at Rose… she felt chilled straight to the bone.

She swallowed, feeling almost as if she was Silenced again. As soon as the shudder was over, she was up to yelling again. "Well, _I_ need me to be your bodyguard. I don't want people saying that about you, Scorpius! You're _not_ a bad person, no matter what you think. I love you, Scorpius, and I don—" Underneath her rather mindless rant, she didn't notice when his hands roughly grabbed either side of her face, but she couldn't _not _notice when his lips were on hers again.

Her mind went completely blank for a moment, excited beyond comprehension as her hands instantly fisted in the front of his shirt, her head tilting upward even more than it was before.

And she lost herself completely.

It felt like every nerve in her body was suddenly _alive _and eliciting feelings that she'd never experienced before in her entire life… and she was glad to have reserved them for Scorpius.

She couldn't have thought a full coherent though if she wanted to while she felt the familiar-yet-brand-new soft lips pressing and moving against hers in an unbelievably wonderful rhythm that left stars behind her eyes and not much at all in her mind.

The way he kissed her… it bounced between being unexpectedly assertive and still uncertain as his lips withdrew and touched against hers in a varyingly exciting manner…

Rose couldn't want more in a moment. It was everything she craved, everything she'd waited for, if not even more. Her body never cooled down from the fire ignited beneath her skin, and she felt no desire for it to.

Scorpius's pressure on her mouth grew more firm as his hand brushed down her jaw to rest on the back of her neck and cause even more goosebumps there. She responded by rising even higher on her tiptoes, crushing her lips against his, igniting fireworks behind her eyelids and making her stomach do cartwheels.

Rose felt as if her heart was going to burst if she kept her lips to Scorpius's any longer… retreating just a bit, she felt a certain longing in the pit of her stomach, so she leaned upward again to capture his lips a final time before backing completely away, lowering her heels on the ground and slackening her grip on his now-wrinkled white shirt.

Her face burned with embarrassment, and she unconsciously looked down at the ground to avoid his eyes.

"This isn't working the way I planned," Scorpius mumbled from above her, removing his hands from her face and neck.

Rose's pride took a hit as she wondered what in the world he meant by that.

But then, Scorpius moved forward again, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her to him. Though just a bit confused, she manipulated her arms from where they already were on his chest to link around his neck; still, she didn't look into the mercury eyes.

"I—" He began again, pausing uncharacteristically awkwardly, "This… wasn't supposed to happen. I didn't mean for it to."

_So? _Rose thought, smiling against his shirt buttons.

"I mean, my dad told me what you told him after you left, and he knew that I felt the same way you did,"

The indirect confession made her smile only grow wider, her heart pound with a little more force against her ribcage.

"But I didn't want for this to happen…" A note of sadness colored his words.

"Why not?" She demanded; though her emotions were shadowed by affection now, anger was still boiling underneath everything.

"Because I don't want you to be my mate," he said clearly.

Tears sparkled in her eyes, her pride taking a greater hit than ever. She supposed she never really thought of them in actual werewolf terms, only generalized that he _was _a werewolf. She'd forgotten about the fact that werewolves mated for life, and that Scorpius would have to make that commitment… she never really thought of his take on the matter.

Scorpius seemed to sense that she changed her mood suddenly, so he squeezed her body a little tighter. "Rose, I love you,"

Her eyes closed momentarily, the words filling her heart and her mind to bursting.

"But I don't want this to be the end of the line for you." The conflict in his voice was almost painful to hear, "You deserve a normal life, with a family, like you've always wanted. If we're mates, there'll be no chance of any of that… ever. It'd be me and you, stuck in Malfoy Manor, hated by society for the rest of our lives."

"I love Malfoy Manor." She said defiantly.

He rested his forehead against the top of her wavy head.

"Scorpius, if I didn't want you, I would've left a long time ago."

"You don't understand, Rose," His voice got much more urgent suddenly, and he backed away, his hands lightly gripping her upper arms.

"What don't I understand?" She questioned in a provoked manner.

"You can change your mind about this, Rose, _I _can't!" His eyes burned with the want for her to realize what he was saying. "What if you get tired of being with me after a while, what if you want someone else?"

"What if I don't?"_ Because I'm not going to._

This simple indignant reply struck him dumb.

Rose felt rather proud of herself. The logic in her question was undeniable. She stared at him strongly, almost rebelliously.

Questions swam across the surface of his eyes, and he opened his mouth a few times as if to voice these, but then closed it again. He seemed to be at a complete loss.

And then something seemed to hit base in his mind, and his face slowly morphed into a contagious, full-fledged rarity of a smile that lit up the entire dark hallway around them.

Rose smiled back without really knowing why… only knowing that the smile was a promising sign to a future she could hardly wait to experience.

"_What if I don't?"_ Even after the smile broke out on his face, the defiant question still echoed in Scorpius's mind. In those four straightforward words, she laid all of his fears to rest, tamed every lashing of horror or guilt or sorrow that flared up when he thought of their future together…

Rose really was willing to give up every normal aspect of her life to be with him. She was dedicated and diligent, and he knew that she was too hardheaded to give him up now.

As much as he wanted her to have a normal life with a normal family and a husband who could make her happy, as much as he thought that she'd be better with someone else, that she didn't need the added stress of being a werewolf's mate, and as much as he wanted to give her the leeway of being able to get out of it any time, he realized something that, quite frankly, amazed him…

She would give that all up for him.

She would be _happy _with him.

And if that didn't reassure him enough, then the way she pressed her lips lightly against his, with the most affection he'd ever felt, did. The smile he felt against his lips did.

In that moment, he realized he had everything he could ever really want in life. There was no room for complaints when, all despite his lycanthropy (which he now viewed as an almost minor setback), his life was full of love and experience and enough happiness to go around.

So he wasn't about to take to take those four words for granted.

"_What if I don't?"_

_

* * *

_**A/N:** Ta daaa! The final actual chapter! (The next one is just an epilogue... but there is one more to go!)

I hope this didn't seem too choppy... there was just a bunch of little scenes that strung together to create this final piece here... not sure if it worked or not? But I hope it did. :D

Don't worry, the little flashes of nightmares weren't foreshadowing or anything (God forbid…), they were just for fun :D I just _had _to write the last full moon of this story as something über-mega dramatic like that… I wouldn't feel right if I didn't. XD

Aanndd, I cleared up the Lorcan business. He does get punished :]

Aanndd, they kissed. Multiple times :D I hope it all didn't seem to incredibly corny, buuut, I kinda can't help it. These two really did deserve to be happy.

Righty-O, so I guess I'll see you later? Monday, promise :D

Kay. _**Review **_and _**Story Alert **_to see how they're getting on later in life. :D

Lovelovelove,

_KitKat Pyrophobia_


	17. Epilogue

**Disclaimer:** For the last time in this story, I will say that I do not own Harry Potter or anything affiliated with the franchise.

**A/N:** And, behold, the shortest chapter evarr! (In this story… only 4 pages XD But hey, the last chapter was 27 pages, so I think it's excusable :D)

Go on then, read!

* * *

_"And since you know you cannot see yourself, so well as by reflection, I, your glass, will modestly discover to yourself, that of yourself which you yet know not of." _

Julius Caesar, Act 1 Scene 1

* * *

Scorpius poked his head out of his office and looked both ways down the hall before stepping through his doorway and swiftly walking down the corridor lined with office doors identical to his. When he reached the final one on the right (remaining ever-vigilant, as a supervisor could easily stroll out of whichever of the doorways at any given time), he looked back down the length of the hall one more time before slipping in through cracked entrance and closing the door behind him.

The mischievous, self-satisfied smirk on his face faded as he saw that the office was empty. He sighed and walked behind the classy chestnut desk (it'd been a miserable, rickety, old metal thing before Scorpius's 'modifications' on it). Sitting down in the plush office chair, he reclined lazily, no longer bothering to mind the fact that his feet were on the desktop.

_I'll just wait, then._ He decided with another sigh.

Though the rather cozy space was very familiar by then, Scorpius still found himself admiring every little detail about it. The desk itself was rather cluttered when compared to how it usually looked neat and clear due to the stacks and rolls of parchment covering it. He didn't care to look at any of the papers in particular.

Along the edges of the wooden surface were mismatched picture frames filled with shots of wide smiles and great energy, and at the front of everything was a small golden plaque that read "Rose Weasley-Malfoy". He smiled at his own handiwork, the tag having read just the legal "Rose Weasley" until he Charmed his own surname on the end. Even though the name wasn't legally hers, and it was understood and accepted between the couple that they would never technically be married, the ring on her finger and the name added to the end of hers was quite enough to suffice.

Scorpius drew his attention back to the line of pictures, smiling softly at each joyful snapshot before moving on to the next. He actually starred in quite a few of them, whether smiling alongside her or on his own. The remainder consisted of her family at different places, occasions, and times in their lives. He found his eyes lingering a bit longer on one picture rivaling for dead-center in front of the chair.

Both were her favorites: one of them of the two standing (proudly, happily, with lively, youthful energy in their smiles) in the entranceway of Malfoy Manor. He remembered that day quite well, as it was the first day that they'd spent together in the summer after Sixth Year. Nothing really spectacular had happened that day (they'd actually spent most of the time exploring his home that she still absolutely adored even after years of living there), but it was the first time they'd been together all day, undisturbed, as an official couple.

The one right next to that photo had been taken only a week before at Al and Beau's flat. Al had caught the two candid lounging on the couch fairly close-up, and even though their ages had doubled since the first picture, their smiles still held a vivacious, young glow to them.

He was proud to be able to say that they were still happy (both with each other and in general) after all of those years. Even though their chosen careers, both in the Werewolf Support Services in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures in the Ministry, had built a lot of stress in them at times, they'd made it through.

Even the rebellious, resentful young werewolves that'd screamed in his face time and time again, along with the ones who'd broken down crying tragically and proclaimed their lives finished, hadn't been able to break his morale; the Malfoy was glad, in retrospect, that he'd never given up being a werewolf mentor in his section of the office all of the time's he'd been close. As a result, he was able to help a lot of young people (though his heart broke every time he had to explain to a child not even Hogwarts age what they would be facing in life) get by well and contented in the still-prejudiced world. And ever since his own complicated innovation of the Wolfsbane Potion (probably the most tense and nervous time in their lives together—there would be full moons where whatever extra ingredients he'd added would counter-react and render the whole potion ineffective, and Rose would have to explain, rather shaken the next morning, the effects to the test-wolf and genius potioneer: Scorpius) that'd taken years to perfect, he was able to tell the new werewolves that as traumatic their transformations would be, there would be no pain or sickness to accompany.

So, even if he and Rose never produced children of their own to crawl around the Manor, he found himself taking many of the other younger people under his wing for however long they needed his moral support. And even though he was never exactly social back in school, Scorpius had a certain knack for counseling and bonding with every person that entered his office in search for guidance, not to mention the ones he paid visits to in St. Mungo's.

Rose's work was similar to his, only more intimate in the relationships between werewolves and other beings. She dealt with basically the only topic a human could really empathize with concerning werewolves: mates. She was almost a marriage counselor of sorts, helping pairs before, during, and after their affairs. And she'd seen all kinds: human and wolf, two werewolves, same sex couples, and pairs that were so obviously in love that it literally took her breath away.

The most traumatizing of mate break-ups and widowing were her responsibility (the mating-for-life aspect becoming much too real when the heartbreak of some wolves was almost too painful for them to handle), along with the prodding of some humans to accept the role of a mate with a werewolf. She empathetically encouraged the men and women to do what their hearts told them… and when they asked her how she knew it would work out, Rose would smile fondly at the photo of her and Scorpius and reply with a simple, "From experience,"

On the days when Scorpius really didn't have much to do, he would sneak into her office to watch her counsel or do paperwork, or just sit there if that's all that needed to be done. Of course, he wasn't technically supposed to be in her office at all, work professionalism and whatever else, but he could hardly help himself. Besides, having textbook examples of real, happy, successful mates in the room while Rose mentored did nothing but improve her credibility.

Plus, he just liked her office…

Scorpius smiled again. Lately, that's all he seemed to be capable of doing. To kill some time before Rose returned from whatever errand she was running, he looked over the mess of parchment on her desk. He knew that most papers she dealt with were confidential, so he was careful about which ones he took an extra look at. One thing in particular caught his eye: it was a rather small roll that seemed much more yellow and brittle than the rest. Carefully, he inched it from underneath the other pieces and began to inspect it.

He grinned as his eyebrow shot up. He instantly recognized the girlish handwriting that hadn't changed over time that scribed her name, the date (December of 2022, which was sixteen years prior), and the class the assignment was for: Defense Against the Dark Arts (Smith). Amusedly, the blond began to read.

"_Lycanthropy is an affliction that is generally regarded with negative connotations. Werewolves are placed into the Beasts sector of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and are given the highest danger rating by most systems. This does make sense; however, werewolves, as evidence from many accounts and studies show, aren't dangerous by default any time other than the night of the full moon each month, have many options to lessen symptoms, and are now Certified by the Ministry in order to keep other people safe in their company._

_Werewolves are humans infected with lycanthropy, which can only be transmitted by saliva-blood contact, most commonly in the form of a bite, given by a fully-transformed werewolf. Due to this, they are split into both the Beast and Being Divisions of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, as they are beings every day of the lunar cycle except for one. But they are very dangerous beasts that single day._

_Precautions such as the Wolfsbane Potion are given to many werewolves in a specific regimen each lunar cycle to prevent unsafe or harmful behavior to themselves or others. The Wolfsbane Potion was invented sometime after the mid 1970s by a wizard by the name of Damocles. Made of mainly Aconite, the initial purpose for the potion was to alleviate all symptoms (and ultimately cure) lycanthropy, though this was not the final result. It does reduce aggressiveness in transformed werewolves, thus rendering them capable of keeping their mind during the full moon. Because of this, there is no longer a question of them being unsafe during the full moon, unless they were somewhat of a sadist to begin with, if they have taken the potion. Many controlled personnel at hospitals such as St. Mungo's ration this potion each month in order to keep others safe, and it is no longer troublesome to attain it as there is now the option of ordering it from the Ministry when each month arrives, as well as brewing it yourself. As a result of these options, most werewolves are, for lack of a better word, domesticated by the potion. _

_Recently, the Ministry of Magic has implemented a new system of certification to ensure the safety of others in the company of werewolves. This structured qualification process begins as soon as an individual is bitten. A team of Healers and Aurors monitor the person, gauging their reactions and attributes before the full moon. At the full moon, the most highly specialized Healer and an experienced Auror observe the new werewolf's first transformation, seeking any violent or wrathful behavior in them even after they've taken Wolfsbane Potion. If any at all is displayed, the werewolf will not receive a certification of "Safe" that enables them to legally be amongst other humans in the time of their transformation. If they have no trouble during transformation, the certification will come easily as well. Do to this system, tame lycanthropes are separated from the more rabid ones._

_In summation, lycanthropy is a rare affliction that can have many negative effects on both an individual and a group of people. However, due to recent accommodations and implementations concerning it, werewolves are much safer, and it is much simpler for regular people to see whether they are safe or not to be around. As many acclaimed accounts have shown, and as details prove, werewolves are only dangerous once a month, they have means to ease the effects of the affliction, and the Ministry of Magic take precaution to keep docile lycanthropes Safe, and aggressive ones under control._"

Scorpius grinned, reading his partner's essay that had many undertones that read as angry and severe towards any intolerant reader. Though he could specifically remember the assignment being to write an _unbiased _paper, hers was dripping with her own opinion. He wondered if this was written before or after she knew about him… he recalled her telling him about finding out sometime in the fall of 2022, but he couldn't pinpoint when exactly she said. He was content with not knowing, however, because her opinion clearly stated that she hadn't cared what someone was afflicted with at the time of writing.

She'd always been so supportive… so accepting… so perfect for him in every way. It'd just taken him a bit of time to realize it. Scorpius couldn't imagine a life with anyone other than Rose Weasley. He couldn't imagine ever being happy with anyone else.

Picking out a spare quill from a drawer in her desk, he unrolled the paper once more, turning it to the back and hovering the point of the quill in the bottom margin of the page, he couldn't help but letting the corners of his mouth curl up as he hastily scribed the three words that he'd said only a few exceptional times in their lives; he could count the number of times "I love you" crossed his lips on both of his hands, and still have some left over. She knew, though, that he felt it. He knew she knew.

After writing the three words, he rolled the parchment back up and placed it in the same place it laid before he tampered with it. He felt accomplished in a very odd way.

The doorknob turned from in front of him, causing his heartbeat to stop completely for a moment. He used the split-second before the person entered to mentally scold himself for not paying attention to the sound of footsteps approaching.

But he couldn't help a wide smile from spreading across his face as he saw that the person standing in the doorway, the same annoyed-but-amused expression she always wore when he was sneaking out of his office to see her on his face, her arms crossed over her chest, was the love of his life.

* * *

**A/N: **And so, _Lycanthropy _is at an end. I feel both really happy and really sad at the same time, seeing as how I've finally been able to complete a story of this length with little to no trouble and moderate (?) success, but this has been my pastime for 6 months straight (the earliest record was January 30, but I know that I started writing before that…), and now I have to let it go... Sorry to anyone who's been counting on the fact, but there is _**no sequel**_ planned for this story. I'm finished with these two in this situation. I've had my fun :D

So, thank you so much to anyone who's stuck around since Chapter 1 (Published on Feb 19, can you believe that it was that long ago?), and an equal thanks to anyone who's bothered to click on this story just to check it out, and have reached this far. Especially to anyone who's ever reviewed. The reviews mean much more to me than I know how to express. You people and your kind, encouraging words have gotten me through the past six months happy and sane and with a reason to keep my writing up. And I think I've grown as both a person and a writer because of you all. Sincerely, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Now that we're past the mushy nonsense… XD I have a few stories in the works... two with definite titles: **Uprising** and **Betrothed**. I have no set time when I know that any of these are going to be posted, but be sure to put me on _**Author Alert **_if you'd like to read more of my future works :D

Thus, I conclude this story and the longest A/N ever :D

I love you. All of you.

_KitKat Pyrophobia_


	18. Author's Note

Hello readers :)

For those of you who were interested in a sequel to this story (that I regrettably never delivered), I'm happy to announce that even when I swore to wipe my hands clean completely of this story, there is someone close to my heart who WON'T GIVE IT UP. After she refused to give up her death-hold on this story (after very little persuasion, actually XD), I formally handed the sequel-rights and plot and whatnot over to her.

So, check out Mandy's (**LoveInAComa**) sequel to this story, entitled **Tiny Details**, for which I am proudly beta :) Even though I mostly just wanted Lycanthropy to be put to rest, it's actually really, _really _good (and freaking adorable with a balance of fluff and drama that even I could never achieve). And also pretty much exactly what I imagined Rose and Scorpius to encounter after their Hogwarts Career.

Sooo I would definitely check it out (if you have trouble finding it, Mandy is on my Favorite Authors list) if you want to read a story that picks up flawlessly right where this one left off! :D

Anyway. Till next time :)

_KitKat Pyrophobia_


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